


When All Hope Is Gone

by vix_spes



Category: Persuasion - Jane Austen
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Romance, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 10:43:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3933805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vix_spes/pseuds/vix_spes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last thing Anne Elliot wants to do is go to Lyme but, then again, she has become used to not getting what she wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Anne

**Author's Note:**

> Back during the 2014 Happy October Swap, dunderklumpen commented that she would love fic where Anne fell instead of Louisa ... I couldn't resist so here is my attempt!

Despite the excited chattering of Mary, Anne was struggling to summon up any enthusiasm whatsoever about their trip to Lyme. Henrietta and Louisa were even more giddy than usual and even Charles was looking forward to the time away but Anne would rather go to Bath and visit her father and Elizabeth than go to Lyme in the company of Captain Wentworth. She had done everything that she possibly could to get out of going, even going so far as to volunteer to look after Mary's children, but she had been overruled on all sides with Mrs Musgrove stating that Anne more than deserved some time to enjoy herself and that she would be more than happy to look after her grandchildren.

So, it was with great reluctance that Anne set about packing for Lyme. As she did so, she couldn't help but notice the lamentable state of her wardrobe. Oh, all of her dresses were clean and neat but they were all so old and none of them had been particularly fashionable in the first place. Anne had never been enamoured with fashion as Elizabeth and Mary had been but what young woman didn't appreciate a pretty new dress? Unfortunately for Anne, with the need to cut back at Kellynch in an attempt to save as much money as possible, it had been Anne's wardrobe that had felt the pinch for God forbid that Elizabeth went without. She was cast back to that first evening that Frederick had arrived at Kellynch, before little Charles had fallen out of the tree, when she had desperately cast through her dresses for something suitable to wear. Still, it wasn't as though she was trying to catch the attention of any men, whatever men there may be in Lyme. Anne had long ago resigned herself to the fact that she would only ever love Frederick Wentworth and, seeing as he clearly wanted nothing more to do with her than what polite company demanded, she was slowly becoming accustomed to the fact that she would forever be a spinster. 

Selfish as it may be, she prayed with every fibre of her being that Captain Wentworth didn't choose Louisa Musgrove to be his bride. Hearing the news that he had married would be agony but knowing that he had married Louisa would be simply impossible to bear. As it was, being in close proximity to them in Lyme while Louisa flirted gaily, not knowing the history between Anne and the Captain was going to be a true test of Anne's mettle.

Briefly, she toyed with the idea of claiming that Lady Russell had requested her presence in Bath but it was unlikely that her story would be believed and, besides, she had always wanted to see the sea. When she and Fred.. Captain Wentworth had been engaged, they had spent hours discussing all of the different places that they wanted to visit, the things that they wanted to see. Anne had listened enviously to the Captain describing his travels to the Musgroves. He had done everything that they had ever talked about, yet the farthest Anne had managed to travel was Bath, a town that she had hated. The realisation sent a pang of regret through her, not for the first time.

~*~ 

The trip down to Lyme was far harder to bear than Anne had expected it to be. It was not a long drive to Lyme and the ladies were to be in the relative comfort of the carriage. Then again, she hadn't reckoned on being trapped in a confused space with Louisa and Henrietta as they raved and giggled about how wonderful Captain Wentworth was not to mention Mary's continuous moaning that, by the time she returned, her sons would be thoroughly spoilt by their grandmother but she was so exhausted and so in need of time to herself. Anne managed to restrain herself from rolling her eyes and tried to distract herself by staring out of the window at the passing countryside, desperate for her first glimpse of the sea. And then, of course, her view was occupied by the form of Captain Wentworth on horseback, prompting another round of giggles and compliments from the other occupants of the carriage. Anne, on the other hand, found herself leaning her head against the wall of the carriage, desperate for the journey to be over and wishing more than anything that she were back at Uppercross caring for her nephews. 

The closer that they got to Lyme, the more nervous Anne became. The main reason for visiting Lyme was that a fellow Naval captain of Frederick's lived there and he wanted to visit him and his family. Having heard snatches of several conversations, Anne had gathered that Captain Harville had been wounded in battle and had recovered only for Bonaparte to be defeated before he could put back out to sea. Apparently Captain Wentworth hadn't seen his friend since he had been injured and so had been eagerly anticipating this visit. What made Anne nervous was that this Captain Harville had known Frederick since the year '06 and so, she assumed, would know all about their relationship. 

Then again, would Frederick have spoken about their relationship at all? He clearly hadn't mentioned it to his sister and brother-in-law or, if he had, they were excellent actors for they had never treated Anne with anything but kindness. Maybe Frederick hadn't spoken of her at all to his shipmates. Oh how Anne hoped that that were the case. Even though they would not be staying with the Harvilles, Anne knew that this trip was going to be hard enough already and it wouldn't take much to tip her over the edge. Unbidden, Anne's fingers crept up to her throat to toy with the chain that she wore constantly around her neck. 

No-one had ever been interested enough to ask why she had started wearing it eight years ago but, even if they had, Anne would never have admitted the truth. Only she knew that it held the key to a locked chest that contained all of her physical memories of Captain Wentworth. The chest, a small, intricately carved object that had been gifted to a young Anne by her mother, kept a myriad of small mementos; letters, small sketches and several dried, pressed flowers. None of them were worth anything of monetary value but to Anne they were bitter-sweet treasures; memories of the last time she had been truly happy. Steeling herself, adamant that she was not going to cry, Anne looked resolutely out of the window and determined that she would make the best of the trip.

When she had been packing, something – she wasn't sure what – had made her open the chest and look through the contents. There were several much treasured memories of her mother within – a sketch of the two of them when Anne was a young girl, a few ribbons and a delicate necklace that had been Anne's last birthday gift from her beloved mother and so had been packed away for safety. However, the bulk of the contents were memories of Captain Wentworth. There was a sizeable bundle of letters, all bound up in red ribbon, dried, pressed flowers that he had given her on their many walks around the countryside and a multitude of small sketches. 

There was one other item in the chest, possibly the most prized item that Anne had every received from Frederick; a small, carved wooden ship. It was neither crude nor intricately detailed but the care and time that had gone into it was undeniable. Frederick had carved it as a young midshipman, speaking fondly of the older sailor who had taught him to work with the material, and had carried it with him throughout his Naval career until he had given it to Anne. 

Anne didn't know what had possessed her to take it out of the chest and pack it amongst the items in her trunk for the trip to Lyme but she had done precisely that. Maybe it was an attempt to remind herself that, once upon a time, she had been loved not loathed by Captain Frederick Wentworth. Besides, the reason did not truly matter. As soon as they returned to Uppercross, she would be off to Bath with Lady Russell and, hopefully, she would never have to see Frederick Wentworth again. 

~*~

By the end of her first full day in Lyme, Anne was actually glad that she had come on the trip and had fallen in love with the small seaside town. The previous day she had felt a thrill go through her when they crested a hill and she had her first real view of the sea stretching out into the distance while the scent of salt in the air and the cries of gulls freewheeling overhead had brought a smile to her lips. Being by the sea was a more than pleasant change from Uppercross or even Kellynch and Anne couldn't help but think how pleasant it would be to live in Lyme. At least during the summer months; she wasn't sure how pleasant it would be in the winter. Despite the occasional bursts of bright sunshine, the wind had a definite bite to it as it blew in off the sea.

What was also clear to Anne was that Frederick loved it here, even more than she did. Although, she supposed that that was to be expected given that Lyme was situated next to his beloved sea. Frederick had always had a serious countenance about him, one that seemed even more so now. When Anne had known him before, there had been two things that made him light up; the sea and her. Now, she supposed, there was just the sea although he had been genuinely delighted to see his old friend Captain Harville again.

Once they had arrived in Lyme, the first thing that they had done was to organise rooms and dinner at one of the inns and make arrangements for all of their luggage to be unloaded. With not a huge amount of time before their evening meal, Frederick and Charles gave in to the demands of Louisa and Henrietta and escorted the whole party down to the sea shore. Louisa and Henrietta had immediately made for the water, giggling merrily away as they tried to avoid getting the hems of their dresses caught in the waves as Charles and Mary delicately picked their way over the shore-line towards them. Anne stood farther back up the shore, content to just watch them and breathe in the sea air. It didn't take long before she realised that Frederick was stood beside her, both of them watching the other members of their party. Anne had dared to dart a few glances his way and on one of the occasions she was convinced that she had seen him looking at her only for him to avert his eyes when she had glanced his way. She had been sure that he was about to talk, perhaps, when an unknown voice had called his name and his face had simply lit up. 

Anne had watched in fascination the exuberant and affectionate way that Frederick had greeted the older Captain, intrigued to see that he had shown more affection with the other sailor than he had ever shown with his brother in the year '06. Then again, she supposed that you would have more of a relationship with the men that you spent all day every day with than with someone you only saw intermittently and communicated with mostly through letters. By contrast, Frederick's greeting for Captain Benwick wasn't quite as exuberant but no less heartfelt, causing Anne to wonder at the difference. 

As the whole party were introduced to the two Captains, Anne unconsciously pushed herself to the back of the group so that she was the last of their party to be named. Looking closely at Captain Harville, Anne saw his eyes widen and him dart a glance at Frederick when he heard her name. Clearly Frederick had spoken of her over the years and she didn't disillusion herself into thinking that they were kind words. Why would they be? 

Anne automatically fell to the back of the group as they headed back towards town. Louisa and Henrietta were both hanging off Frederick's every word, Charles was escorting Mary and Captain Benwick seemed more than content to drift along by himself, seemingly lost in his thoughts. So engrossed in her observations of the party was Anne that she failed to notice Captain Harville walking next to her for several long minutes. 

“Captain Harville! I'm so sorry, I didn't realise you were there.” 

“Do not trouble yourself, Miss Elliot.” 

Anne could see the gentleman hesitate as though he wanted to ask her a question but wasn't quite sure how to ask. 

“Forgive my rudeness in enquiring, but would you be _the_ Miss Anne Elliot?” 

Anne could feel her cheeks flush and it took everything she had to keep her voice steady as she responded. “I am indeed _the_ Anne Elliot.” 

“Then it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance after all these years.” 

Anne nearly tripped in shock. They were not the words that she had been expecting. Not in the slightest. More than a little dumbfounded, Anne was at a complete loss for words – even the most basic of small talk – and the rest of their walk was completed in slightly awkward silence. Not surprisingly, they were the last of their party to return and Anne couldn't miss the almost suspicious glances sent in their direction by Frederick. Dimly, she was aware of Captain Harville extending an invitation for them all to dine at the Harvilles that evening and, after some hushed debate, the offer being accepted but Anne was focused solely on trying to maintain her composure. Captain Harville had clearly been informed about her relationship with Frederick and what had happened but, for some unfathomable reason, he didn't seem to hate her and Anne couldn't help but wonder at the reason for that. 

To her relief, after a quiet lunch at the inn, everybody retired to their rooms for the afternoon having agreed a time to meet to go to the Harvilles Anne couldn't have been more grateful for the reprieve and retired to her room as quickly as politeness allowed. She wiled away the afternoon with some quiet reading as well as writing in her diary and then, when she still had time to fill, writing to her father and Elizabeth and Lady Russell. Finally, the time came for Anne to change for dinner. She was both looking forward to and dreading the evening. She was looking forward to it because it meant that she was no longer alone with her thoughts but dreading it because it meant yet another evening of Louisa and Henrietta fawning over Captain Wentworth and Mary would undoubtedly be unimpressed by the Harvilles situation. Still, there was little she could do but make the best of things. 

Upon arrival at the Harvilles home, Anne was more than pleasantly surprised by her surroundings. Captain Harville and his wife had clearly done his best to make the rooms more homely and the result was a complimentary mix of wooden items hand worked by Captain Harville and items that could only have been brought back by the Captain from his voyages. Charmed by both the surroundings and Captain Harville and his wife, who had been nothing but welcoming to a large party of mostly strangers, Anne could do nothing other than pray that Mary behaved graciously. At least for as long as they remained at the Harvilles. 

By the time that they sat for dinner, Anne needn't have worried. The table had been laid out so that Frederick held court at one end surrounded by Louisa and Henrietta with Captain and Mrs Harville sat in the middle so that they could converse with as many of their guests as possible. Next to them were Charles and Mary with Anne and Captain Benwick placed awkwardly at the end due to the uneven numbers of their party. With little choice left to her, Anne did her best to forge ahead in conversation with the young Captain. Her efforts paid off when, after some effort, he opened up and they passed a pleasant evening conversing about poetry and prose. Still, despite the fact that she had enjoyed the evening far more than she had originally thought possible, Anne was still brought low by the realisation as she readied herself for bed that, had she made a different decision eight years ago, these people would have been her friends. 

~*~

Two days after their dinner at the Harvilles home, Anne had walked out of her room only to walk straight into the chest of a man who she had seen on the Cobb the previous afternoon. A man who had watched Anne with such apparent curiosity that she had felt quite disconcerted. Henrietta, who had been with Anne at the time, had wondered at his interest but Anne had simply brushed it off as there not being many strangers in town given the time of year and nothing more had been said of it. It had been of little consequence, as he had left the inn that very morning and not even the discovery that he was, in all likelihood, a cousin of Mary and Anne had made Anne spare him any more thought.

Knowing that today would be their last day in Lyme, they had all decided to talk one last walk along the Cobb. The previous day, Louisa had insisted upon Captain Wentworth jumping her down the steps from the high wall to the footpath below as he had done so for all of the stiles on their walks around Uppercross. He had indulged her several times before refusing to do it any further. When Louisa had demanded that he continue with a petulant stomp of her foot, everybody had been rather amazed when the Captain had refused on the grounds of her safety. Louisa had been far from happy but when she had realised that Frederick was supported by all of the men present, she had been forced to accept his judgement although she had been in a definite sulk for the remainder of their walk. 

As they set out for their final walk, it was apparent that the weather wasn't as good as it had been on previous days and the wind in particular had picked up significantly. Still, the weather was deemed suitable for a short walk and they had set out. They made it to the other end of the Cobb without incident but, upon their return, the wind had picked up significantly and it was clear from the glances exchanged by the three Captains that the weather was deteriorating quicker than they would like. As a result, it was decided that, as soon as they reached the steps leading down to the lower walk they would descend them and complete their constitutional as quickly as possible. By the time that they reached the steps, the ladies were struggling somewhat to keep their feet and behind them, waves were starting to break over the end of the Cobb.

Somehow, Anne was the last to descend the steps and she was carefully making her way down the steps when she was distracted by a sea-gull, blown off-course by the high winds, coming perilously close to colliding with her. Trying to avoid it, she lost her balance on the sea-slick steps and, arms flailing in an attempt to grasp onto something, anything, found herself falling almost from the top of the high wall. She heard a multitude of screams and exclamations but the last thing Anne was truly aware of before she hit the ground and everything faded to black was Frederick screaming her name and wondering why his voice sounded so full of anguish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you would prefer to comment on LJ, you can do so [here](http://vix-spes.livejournal.com/188467.html)


	2. Harville

“And this is Miss Anne Elliot.”

Frederick had barely finished speaking before Harry Harville had realised why the name sounded familiar, his eyes widening as he realised that Frederick had come into contact with her again. He glanced at his friend to check that he wasn't mistaken but, unsurprisingly, his friend was avoiding his gaze. Instead, he had to wait until he could talk to the lady in question who had confirmed that she was indeed _the_ Miss Anne Elliot. And wasn't that an interesting turn of events.

Harville had never thought that he would ever meet the woman that had had his normally composed friend so turned around but now here she was in Lyme. Miss Anne was clearly disconcerted by the fact that he recognised her name and he had no desire of causing her further discomfort at the present moment but he certainly had no intention to let Frederick continue without attempting to resolve the situation.

That evening, whilst he had done his best to be attentive to all his guests, Harville had paid particular attention to Miss Anne and Frederick, attempting to get the lie of the land. It didn't take him long to figure Frederick out at least, but there he had the advantage of years of friendship. The problem was that he didn't really like what he was seeing.

It had been patently obvious when Frederick had returned to ship that he had been badly wounded by Miss Anne's rejection and angry at the way that he had been treated. Even so, it had taken the best part of a bottle of brandy before he had told Harville anything that had happened. Frederick had moped about ship for several months before seemingly bouncing back to his old self but Harville and a few of the older officers hadn't been fooled. They had thought it far more likely that, rather than get over Miss Anne Elliot, Frederick had simply buried all of his feelings for her in the desperate hope of forgetting that she existed. Apparently, he had been somewhat successful until now.

Harville just wished that he knew what Frederick was playing at. He was convinced that Frederick was still in love with Miss Anne but the air between them was clearly strained and Frederick was focusing nearly all of his attention on the two ninnies that were the youngest members of his party. They were undeniably pretty but so young and flighty. For all their talk about how wonderful the Navy was, they were clearly just enamoured with the picture painted by the young, dashing and good-looking Captain Wentworth.

They were a clear contrast to Miss Anne, that was for sure. Now there was a young lady with a sensible head on her shoulders. Harville could easily see her as a sailors wife and found himself wondering what Sophy Croft nee Wentworth had thought of her, for Sophy was the perfect sailors wife if there ever was one. He also appreciated the efforts that she went to to draw Benwick out of his shell. The man had become so withdrawn since he had been informed of Fanny's death and sometimes it seemed as thought nothing they did helped him in the slightest. But now, here he was conversing for the whole evening with a woman that he barely knew and Harville appreciated that more than he could put into words at this point in time.

What Harville also found interesting was that the more animated Benwick became, occasionally drawing small smiles and bouts of laughter from Miss Anne, the more glances Frederick darted their way and the more effort he put into charming the two younger ladies. At this, Harville became even more convinced that he had read the situation correctly; Frederick might not be aware of it but he was still in love with Miss Anne Elliot and he was simply using the young ladies in an attempt to make her jealous. It was a dangerous game that he was playing though and Harville resolved to speak to him sooner rather than later.

As a result, Harville knew that he was distracted for the rest of the evening and thus not the best host. Luckily for him, his guests were completely absorbed in each other and Margaret covered ably for him when they weren't. His mind was focused on his friends actions. He just couldn't fathom how his friend was being so callous; it was so out of character. Harville had a fair idea of how much Frederick had been hurt by Miss Anne's actions eight years ago but, with the impartiality of a bystander, he could also understand why Miss Anne had made the choice that she did. If Frederick wasn't so damn stubborn, Harville was sure that he would see that. The problem was that Frederick was merely entangling himself into a situation that it wouldn't be easy to extricate himself from. It was perfectly clear that Charles Musgrove and his wife and sisters were convinced that Frederick would be marrying the oldest sister but Harville was convinced that that wasn't what Frederick wanted.

Frederick was a die-hard Naval man. The instant that he was called back to the Service he would go, whether that was joining the Sea Fencibles or chasing down privateers. Frederick had always been adamant that a woman didn't belong on a ship, regardless of the fact that his sister had always travelled with the admiral. Harville couldn't see this pretty little thing being happy to be a Naval wife, couldn't see her being happy to live on a Naval wage or be left behind for weeks or even months on end. She was the type who would want to be in a town where there were dances all the time and shopping; trips to the sea and places like Lyme were a nice enough diversion but he couldn't imagine her living somewhere like that. He also couldn't imagine Miss Musgrove being able to deal with Frederick's occasional black moods; he needed somebody steady who would support him and stand firm, not somebody flighty like the lady-in-question.

Now, Miss Anne was a different story altogether.

~*~

The following morning, just as the party were about to head for the Cobb, Harville pulled Miss Anne aside for the express purpose of thanking her for conversing with Benwick the previous evening. He had found himself talking of Fanny's death to an outsider for the first time as well as the fact that he hated that they couldn't do more for Benwick and that it had fallen to Captain Wentworth to break the news. Their conversation was curtailed as Harville was needed by his wife on some errands so would not be joining them on their walk along the Cobb. The next thing that he knew, he was practically bowled over by Benwick as he raced past shouting that Miss Anne was badly hurt and that he was off to fetch the surgeon.

Harville immediately headed towards the Cobb, knowing instinctively that Margaret was right behind him. Halfway there, very close to the inn that the visiting party had been staying at, he caught sight of Frederick coming towards them, carefully cradling the limp form of Miss Anne Elliot. Harville had stood by Frederick's side through countless battles and had never seen such a look on his face before, never seen such a look of sheer desperation warring with despair. Instantly, he knew that regardless of Frederick's capabilities as an exemplary officer of His Majesty's Royal Navy and the fact that he had directed numerous battles with ease, this was one instance where Frederick was not remotely in control and Harville was going to have to take charge. It was also very clear that Miss Anne's family were going to be of very little use.

As Frederick pushed past him into the inn, presumably heading for Miss Anne's room, Margaret moved closer and murmured that she would go and assist Frederick until the surgeon arrived, something that had taken the weight off his shoulders. Margaret was more than capable and would keep her head, even if Frederick was losing his. Margaret was from a Naval family and, before their children were born, had travelled with Harville on several occasions. That at least left him about to make sure that the rest of Frederick's party were settled before he went to see if he could be of assistance.

Leaving Charles Musgrove to look after his wife, Harville offered the mans sisters his arms and led them into the main room of the inn before he walked off to procure some brandy to hopefully help them with the shock. By the time that he returned, Mrs Musgrove was making her displeasure clearly heard, not understanding why she could not be with her sister and it would seem that nothing her husband said could placate her.

“Mrs Musgrove, no-one doubts your desire to be of use to your sister in her time of need but, until she has been seen by the surgeon, there is nothing that you can do. Please be assured that my wife and Captain Wentworth are taking excellent care of her in the meantime.”

To his relief, Mrs Musgrove quietened just as Benwick fell through the doors of the inn and raced upstairs, the surgeon following close on his heels. The rest of the party didn't waste any time in following them, hovering anxiously in the corridor outside Miss Anne's room for someone to emerge with news. Harville took up position next to Benwick, leaning against the wall.

“Did the surgeon say anything?”

“Nothing. But what's with Frederick? I've never seen him like this before.”

After checking that he wouldn't be overheard by anyone, Harville leant in to ensure that he was only heard by Benwick. “I have my suspicions that Frederick is in love with Miss Anne.”

Benwick looked as though he were about to answer only for him to be interrupted by a cry of “Oh thank god!” from Frederick. It wasn't too much longer before the door opened and the surgeon emerged, shutting the door firmly behind him.

“The young lady is unconscious but I have seen people recover from more serious injuries. She must not be moved from here until she has regained consciousness and, even then, I would not advise that she undertake a journey for several more weeks. As it is, she may have no visitors; nothing that may disturb her recovery. Mrs Harville is a more than competent nurse and I shall return to check on Miss Elliot in the morning.”

At the pronouncement that there were to be no visitors, Mrs Musgrove collapsed in a fit of wailing, pronouncing that as the lady-in-question's sister then it should be her doing the nursing. Under tacit agreement, the gentlemen moved the ladies downstairs and poured them all another glass of brandy. They were just discussing their best course of action when Frederick appeared in the doorway.

“Mrs Musgrove? Mrs Harville has asked that you go and help her if you feel up to it. She wants to get An- Miss Elliot changed into something more comfortable. If you don't feel able, then she has asked that I send up one of the girls.”

Harville looked around as Mrs Musgrove huffed and puffed but straightened her shoulders and headed for the stairs. He clearly hadn't been the only person to catch Frederick's slip of the tongue; Benwick had obviously noticed it and, by the unhappy look on her face, so had the oldest Musgrove girl.

“Frederick, we were just discussing the best course of action now that we've heard the surgeon's initial prognosis. Surely we must send word to her family.”

“The only member of her family that cares for Miss Elliot even slightly is already here, Harville.”

Harville winced at Frederick's lack of tact, even as he knocked back a snifter of brandy, and hoped that the family in question were suitably distracted by their shock. “Even so, they must be informed. Mr Musgrove, perhaps I might suggest that you return home with your sisters and then return with some clothes for your wife as I presume she will remain with her sister.”

“Yes, yes, of course. But Anne's father should be informed.”

“Benwick will ride to Bath and deliver the news to Anne's family I am sure, if you will write the note.”

Musgrove agreed and, after finding ink and paper, set to his task with alacrity. By the time Benwick had returned after ordering the carriage and horses as well as his own horse to be readied, Musgrove had two notes prepared.

“The second note is for a Lady Russell. She's Anne's godmother and as close to a mother besides; she'll want to know.”

To his relief, Harville thought he was the only one to see the black look overtake Frederick's face at the lady's name as he poured another snifter of brandy and tossed it back. Clearly there was more there than he was aware of but he would bide his time until the right moment.  He was going to have to move quickly though if he wanted things to go as he envisaged. 

~*~

The following morning, Harville made his way back to the Inn to see if there was any news on Miss Elliot's condition. Margaret had insisted that he go home the previous evening, saying that there was nothing he could do and that it made sense to give their children as much normality as possible. Harville and Margaret had both been completely unsurprised when Frederick had stated his intention of staying at the Inn although Margaret had reminded him that with Mrs Musgrove there, he wouldn't be able to actually sit with Miss Elliot. That hadn't bothered him though and Harville was completely unsurprised when he arrived at the inn to discover Frederick sat on the floor outside Miss Anne's room, looking almost as morose as Benwick. He had seen the surgeon walking in the opposite direction as he arrived so he knew that they had had more information.

"What did the surgeon say? Is it good news?"

'She's still unconscious' were the only words that Harville was able to extract from Frederick so he knocked on the door to get Margaret's attention and a proper update. When his wife opened the door she looked exhausted and there was no sign of Mrs Musgrove. The moment that the door opened, Frederick had scrambled to his feet like an eager schoolboy and Margaret took pity on him, holding the door open and gesturing him inside.

"I'm going for breakfast with my husband, that's how long you've got. Do not make me regret this, Frederick Wentworth."

She was speaking to an empty space though; Frederick was already inside at Miss Anne's bedside so Harville offered his wife his arm and escorted her downstairs. He waited until they had ordered their food and Margaret had had a cup of tea before he started questioning her.

"What did the surgeon say? And where is Mrs Musgrove?"

"The surgeon is happy that it isn't too serious and he believes that she'll regain consciousness at some point today. She'll still be too weak to travel though..."

"Then she must come and stay with us until she is recovered."

"That is precisely what I hoped you would say. As for Mrs Musgrove, I would presume she is in her room where she has been since last night. If, as Frederick says, she is the most caring of Miss Anne's family then I admire her even more; it is an achievement indeed for her to be as she is with family like that."

“If only Frederick would see that.”

“I think he has seen that, Harry. Mrs Musgrove has spent less than two hours with her sister yet Frederick sat outside the room all night and, even now, he's sat at her bedside. I think Frederick is perfectly aware of Miss Anne's charms.”

Harville's head shot up and his wife chuckled. “Frederick hasn't been subtle, Harry. It has been patently obvious that he feels _something_ for Miss Anne but I don't think that even Frederick truly knows how he feels. He clearly has no interest in Louisa Musgrove other than a mild flirtation but, unconsciously or not, he's been using her to make Miss Anne jealous. The only problem is, I don't believe that the lady and her family see it that way. From the way that Mrs Musgrove spoke, the entire family are expecting a proposal and it isn't going to go down well if they hear of all the time that Frederick has been spending at Miss Anne's bedside.”

“What?”

“Frederick isn't in love with Miss Louisa, to us that is patently obvious. However, that doesn't matter with the amount of interest that he has been showing her. To hear her family talk, they believe a proposal is imminent. We need to make it clear to him that if he has no intention of marrying her then he needs to put distance between them and let her lose interest.”

“Is that not a bit cruel?”

“As cruel as the two of them being trapped in a lovelessmarriage? Now, isn't there an older brother? Can Frederick not go visit him for a while?”

“Yes, Edward. He lives in Shropshire or somewhere similar. Frederick might listen to him and he has been talking about going to visit him.”

“Then it's decided. I must get back to Miss Anne before her sister awakes and has an apoplectic fit at seeing Frederick. You can get Frederick out for a walk and tell him.”

“When must he leave? Surely it need not be immediately?”

“No. Let him stay until Miss Anne has woken up and Mrs Musgrove has returned home. Then he must go.”

“How are you so certain that Mrs Musgrove will be leaving?”

“Because I have no doubt that she will refuse my offer to have her stay with us and help nurse her sister. Come on, let us be about our tasks. Take Frederick out onto the Cobb; the fresh air will do you both good.”

~*~

It was with huge sighs of relief that the Harvilles and Captain Wentworth saw Lady Russell and Mrs Musgrove off to Bath and Uppercross respectively. As Margaret Harville had suspected, Mrs Musgrove had declined the invitation to stay with the Harvilles stating that, as ill as her sister was, she wasn't suited to the sickroom and her own children needed her. Besides, she was confident that her sister would get the best possible care from Mrs Harville and her nursemaid. Also travelling with the Musgroves were the Harville children and Captain Benwick. It had been decided that, with Miss Anne staying with them, it was best to keep the house as quiet as possible and, wanting to do whatever they could to help their beloved Miss Anne, the elder Musgroves had immediately offered their home and their services. Sending Benwick with them had been another suggestion of Margaret's and was two-fold on the part of the Harvilles. In doing so, they not only hoped to give the children a familiar face to cling to but he also hoped to divert Miss Louisa from Frederick. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about Benwick loving someone that wasn't Fanny but Margaret had assured him that, even if Benwick were to love again, that did not mean that he had forgotten Fanny. Still, it had been a relief to see Mrs Musgrove off to her home and be rid of her endless complaining although she, at least, was satisfied that her sister was in good hands.

Lady Russell, on the other hand, had had very distinct opinions on how her beloved god-daughter couldn't possibly get the best care in Lyme and wanted her moved to Bath immediately but, luckily, the surgeon had arrived to argue the case for not moving Miss Anne. It had thus been a very disgruntled Lady Russell that had got back into her carriage and returned to Bath, not before she had spent several hours sitting with her god-daughter and it had been made perfectly clear that she blamed them all for the accident, Frederick in particular. Harville had wanted to talk to him, ask him why there was such animosity between them but, having spent the duration of her visit glaring daggers at Lady Russell, the instant that she had left, Frederick had disappeared and still hadn't returned by nightfall.

It had been rather strange with the small house devoid of the sounds of children and general life. After a quiet dinner, just the two of them, Margaret had disappeared upstairs to unpack Miss Anne's things that had arrived from the inn and Harville had settled down to carve some new toys for the children's return. He was so lost in the familiar motions that he was rather startled when a hand appeared in front of his face holding a small wooden ship.

“Harry? I found this in Miss Anne's trunk. Have you seen anything like it before? It's not something I would have expected her to have. I wonder where she got it.”

Harville opened his mouth to respond but, before he could say anything, he was interrupted by Frederick's voice, raw with emotion. The man had finally returned without either of them realising it.

“It was mine. I made it as a mid and gave it to her eight years ago. She kept it. She _kept_ it.”


	3. Frederick

“Anne!”

The word had ripped itself out of his throat almost before he had been aware of it. In all of his years at sea, in battle against the French and their allies, he had never seen anything as terrifying as seeing Anne fall from the steps of the Cobb. The sight of her lying against the stone had him frozen, unable to move or even think sensibly. He wasn't the only one in that situation; dimly, he registered that none of the Musgroves had moved either. Instead, it was Benwick who leapt into action. Frederick simply stood dumbly, looking on, until Benwick yelled at him, stirring him from his stupor.

“What – what do I do? James?”

Benwick looked up from where he had been using his cravat as a temporary bandage. “Give me your coat, we need to keep her warm. She's still breathing at least. Small mercies. Get her carefully to the inn; I shall run for the surgeon and bring him to you there.”

Frederick barely noticed Benwick taking off at a run down the Cobb, his world had shrunk so that it consisted of no-one but Anne. Anne who, even now, lay pale as snow, lifeless before him. Unable to help himself, he reached out two fingers and placed them against her throat, desperately needing reassurance that she still breathed. As carefully as he possibly could, treating Anne as though she were made of the finest porcelain, he gathered her into his arms, ensuring that his coat remained tucked around her and set off for the inn as quickly as he dared. As he did so, he didn't bother to spare a thought towards her family, simply assuming that they were following behind him.

As he arrived at the inn that they had been staying it, the painstaking walk from the Cobb having seemingly taken ages, he couldn't help the sigh of relief as he saw Harville and Margaret standing there obviously having been briefed by Benwick. He didn't say anything, he _couldn't_ say anything but he was fairly sure that Harville could see the terror written on his face. Not stopping, moved straight up to Anne's room, dimly aware of footsteps on the stairs behind him. Just as he had reached Anne's doorway and was wondering how he was going to open the door with Anne still in his arms, Margaret Harville appeared at his side and opened the door, slipping inside just before he did.

“Lay her on the bed Frederick and take her boots off. We don't do anything else until the surgeon has seen her.”

Frederick did as he was told, standing at the side of the bed so as to be out of the way, eyes fixed on Anne's still form. The wait for the surgeon seemed almost interminable but he knew that, in all reality, it wasn't that long. He held his breath as the surgeon examined Anne thoroughly.

“The wound to her head is serious and it is that which has caused her to lose consciousness. I do believe that the young lady will make a full recovery in time; I have seen people recover from far more serious injuries. All the young lady needs is good nursing and time.”

“Oh thank god!” Frederick felt almost light-headed as the breath rushed out of him, sinking to his knees and snatching up one of Anne's hands and pressing a kiss to the back of it. She was going to live, Anne was going to live. In that moment, nothing else mattered and Frederick finally admitted the truth to himself; he was still in love with Miss Anne Elliot.

Dimly, he was aware of the surgeon talking in more detail to Margaret but paid no attention, instead focusing solely on the woman lying on the bed in front of him. He was in love with Anne. No, he was still in love with Anne. He always had been, there had never been any other woman for him. His hatred of her had been more hurt pride and ego than anything else. How could he have been so blind? So stupid? All of this time in her company and all he had done was flirt with other women and be unnecessarily cruel towards her.

He started as Margaret touched him on the shoulder. “Frederick, you can't stay here any longer, I'm sorry. Can you go downstairs and send Mrs Musgrove up? I need to get Miss Anne changed into a nightgown.”

He only moved reluctantly, wanting to spend as much time as possible with Anne until, in the end, Margaret pushed him out of the door. “Go. I promise that I will take the best care of her.”

Knowing that Margaret was right and that he couldn't stay with Anne indefinitely, no matter how much he might wish to, he made his way downstairs to find Harville plying his party with brandy, undoubtedly to help with the shock.

“Mrs Musgrove? Mrs Harville has asked that you go and help her if you feel up to it. She wants to get An –”, Frederick could have cursed the instant that he made the slip. He had done his best to not have anything to do with Anne other than what polite society expected. He had made no reference to their prior history beyond the fact that they had been acquainted and had always referred to her as Miss Elliot, whether he spoke of her or simply in conversation. He hoped that everyone was too distracted by the events of the day to notice but he knew that Harville and Benwick would have caught his slip of the tongue and continued as quickly as he could.“Miss Elliot changed into something more comfortable. If you don't feel able, then she has asked that I send up one of the girls.”

Frederick couldn't help but wonder if Mrs Musgrove would actually go. She may be Anne's sister but this was the woman who didn't stay with her son when he had a dislocated collarbone, instead sipping on her father-in-law's claret and leaving her son to his aunt's care. He was more than a little surprised when Mrs Musgrove moved towards the stairs, after some huffing and puffing. More than a little distracted, his thoughts completely focused on the room several floors above him and it's occupants, he did his best to listen as Harville took control of the situation, much as his wife had done upstairs. He had no choice but to listen as Harvillespoke directly to him.

“Frederick, we were just discussing the best course of action now that we've heard the surgeon's initial prognosis. Surely we must send word to her family.”

“The only member of her family that cares for Miss Elliot even slightly is already here Harville.”

Not caring about the other members of their party, Frederick didn't even try to keep the scorn from his voice as he poured himself a healthy measure of brandy. Anne had always been the care-giver in her family, often to the point of martyring herself, and it would be interesting to see if any of her family stepped up to the plate now that it was Anne who was in need of care. He paid little attention as Harville organised the writing of notes to Anne's family, such as they were, and the ladies went about packing up their things. He only truly paid attention to the conversation once more when Benwick returned from organising the horses and the carriage, and was handed several notes by Charles.

“The second note is for a Lady Russell. She's Anne's godmother and as close to a mother besides; she'll want to know.”

At the sound of that name, Frederick scowled and poured himself another measure of brandy, this one larger than the last. Lady Anne Russell, his Anne's namesake and godmother. She may have taken over and acted in the stead of a mother when Anne's own mother died but,as far as Frederick was concerned, she had far too much control over Anne's thoughts and opinions. She had never thought much of Frederick and had made her disdain perfectly clear, thinking that a mere sailor was far below her beloved god-daughter, regardless of how much promise he might show. The glass nearly slipped out of his hand as he remembered what Louisa had said about Anne marrying Charles that day near Winthrop And, for the first time, wondered how much influence Lady Russell had had in Anne breaking their engagement that day.

(~*~)

It was only after significant prodding from Harville that Frederick made himself stir from his position to say his farewells to the rest of his party. He was more surprised than he could say that Mary was staying, ostensibly to help nurse Anne, but he would be far more surprised if she actually did something useful. He knew that the real reason Mrs Mary Musgrove hadn't stayed with her own child when he had a dislocated collarbone was because she had no interest in the sick-room, not even for her own flesh and blood. Would she have the inclination to help her sister when she hadn't cared to help the child that she had birthed? Frederick wasn't holding his breath.

They had been ready far quicker than he had expected, much to his relief as he simply wanted to be able to get back to Anne as quickly as possible. As a result, his farewells were half-hearted and distracted, his thoughts constantly fixed on Anne.He was completely oblivious to the looks shared between Harville and Benwick or the confusion on Charles' face when Frederick failed to respond to Louisa's comment that she hoped they would soon see him at Uppercross once more. Indeed, the carriage had barely disappeared down the street, Benwick riding at the side of it, before Frederick had vanished into the inn.

He knew that, in all probability, he wasn't going to be allowed in to see Anne, particularly given that Mrs Musgrove was staying but he had no intention of going anywhere other than by Anne's door. He was quite prepared to stay there all night. He wanted to be there in case, God forbid, something happened and the surgeon needed to be sent for. He couldn't care less what the other occupants of the inn thought about him sitting there against the door frame as time ticked away. The only time that he moved was to fetch food for Mrs Musgrove and Mrs Harville and even then he was only away for the amount of time that it took him to run downstairs and order the food from the innkeeper. He left it to one of the maids to actually bring the food up.

The night passed unbearably slowly. Unable to go to sleep at all, terrified by the irrational belief that if he did so Anne might die, Frederick instead tortured himself with thoughts of what could have happened, that Anne might not have survived the fall. As dawn started to break, the cries of the seagulls starting up once more, he started to breathe a little easier at the knowledge that she had made it through the night without them having to call for the surgeon. When the surgeon arrived several hours later to check on Anne, Frederick moved quickly to his feet, hoping to be allowed in, only to end up hovering outside the door and then be told what he didn't want to hear.

As the surgeon disappeared off to see his other patients, Frederick resumed his position on the floor by Anne's door. Any hope that had been kindled by the fact that she had made it through the night without them having to call for the surgeon dimmed quickly. At the sound of a familiar uneven gait making its way up the stairs, Frederick raised his head from where it had been tilted back against the wall although he made no effort to stand up. This was Harville after all; there was no need to stand on ceremony. Besides, he wasn't entirely sure of his ability to stand having sat in this position all night.

“What did the surgeon say? Is it good news?”

Frederick shook his head. “She's still unconscious.”

The surgeon had seemed so positive, so confident that Anne would wake if not today then tomorrow, but Frederick just didn't see how that was possible. Admittedly, he had not seen Anne since the previous evening but he didn't need to. It was going to take a long time to get the image of Anne lying pale and lifeless in his arms out of his head, if he could ever get it out of his head. He wasn't sure that he would. It was one of the reasons that he hadn't bothered going to his own room during the night; he knew that it would be pointless as he would not have slept a wink. He was dimly aware that Harville was trying to speak to him again but he didn't know what he was saying. The thing that got his attention was Harville knocking on the door.

The second that it was opened, Frederick scrambled to his feet, desperate to see Anne again, and just about managing to stay on his feet, although his legs threatened to buckle underneath him. He hadn't been allowed in overnight, just in case Mrs Musgrove wanted to sit with her sister but, unsurprisingly, it had been Margaret Harville that had taken nursing duties through the night. His desperation must have shown on his face because Margaret's exhausted face softened slightly.

“I'm going for breakfast with my husband, that's how long you've got. Don't make me regret this, Frederick Wentworth.”

Frederick acknowledged the words with a wave of his hand, already seated by Anne's bedside, greedily feasting on the sight of her. Now that he could see her, he could understand the surgeons positivity somewhat. Anne still looked far too pale for his liking but there was a bit of colour in her cheeks and she was clearly resting easily. Gathering her hand up in his, he pressed it to his lips and then rested it against his cheek.

“You must get better, dearest Anne, for I have much to atone for. Please come back to me, little one. I no longer want to live without you.”

When his impassioned outburst resulted in not so much as a twitch from its recipient, Frederick dropped his head down to rest on the edge of the bed, the top of his head just resting against Anne's side. Ignoring the hot tears coursing down his face, he fell into a fitful doze only to be awoken by a gentle touch to his shoulder. Looking up he saw Margaret smiling sympathetically at him and hurriedly scrubbed the tear tracks from his face.

“I'm sorry Frederick but Mrs Musgrove could be awake and wanting to see her sister any minute. You can see Miss Anne later, I will make sure of it somehow. For the moment, go with Harry and take a walk. The sea air will do you good and I won't be letting you back in here until I hear that you've taken a walk, had a bath, a good dinner and changed your clothes.”

Despite the way that he felt, Frederick dredged up a smile and a ghost of a cheeky grin. “Yes ma'am, as you command.”

Dodging the light smack aimed at him, he pressed one last kiss to Anne's hand and headed downstairs to find Harville.

(~*~)

Frederick wasn't entirely sure how he felt walking along the Cobb again. Just a day previously, Anne had fallen and he had been faced with the terrifying prospect that she was dead, that she would never wake up. Even now, despite the promising prognosis from the surgeon, Frederick knew that that fear wouldn't fully go away until he saw her awake. Not feeling able of looking at the very steps that Anne had fallen from, he instead looked out to sea. Once they got to the end of the Cobb, he closed his eyes, relishing the smell of salt on the air and the spray against his face. The familiarity of it all relaxed him somewhat, at least to the point where he felt that he could listen to whatever Harville had to tell him.

“Well, go on then. Margaret didn't just send me out to get some fresh air and have a bath. What does she want you to talk to me about?”

“Nothing gets past you does it? Yes, I need to talk to you about something but Margaret meant what she said about not letting you back until you've rested at least a little. So, I won't beat around the bush. You need to leave Lyme.”

For a moment, Harville wondered if his words had been lost in the wind, what with the way that Frederick was simply staring at him but he knew that that wasn't the case. After all, they were both men of the sea, employed by His Majesty's Royal Navy since they were but young lads; they had learnt to project their voices above the wind and the waves.

“What? What do you mean that I have to leave Lyme? Why?”

“Frederick, I love you like a brother, you know I do, but you've been playing a dangerous game these last few weeks.”

“Dangerous game? What are you talking about Harry? I haven't been playing any games.”

“Louisa Musgrove? You're telling me that you haven't been flirting with the girl in an attempt to make Miss Anne jealous? The girl fancies herself half in love with you and her family is expecting a proposal any day now.”

“In love with me? A marriage proposal? Harville, I don't understand.”

“Frederick, you've been paying attention to Miss Louisa over and above anyone else. She's a very pretty young woman, but she's exactly that; a young woman, barely more than a schoolgirl. She's fallen head over heels for you and, with the amount of attention you've been paying her and the amount of time you've spent with her family, there's no wonder that her family expects a proposal.”

Frederick started to pace up and down, the wind whipping his great-coat behind him, as the consequences of his actions sank in. He ran his hands through his hair as he came to a temporary stop before he resumed pacing.

“A proposal? This was never what I intended Harville. I admit, I made some throwaway comments about how I was ready to make a foolish match and willing to marry anybody between the age of fifteen and thirty.”

“And therein lies the problem Frederick. You can't say things like that, even in jest. Miss Louisa may just be a flirtation to you but her and her family don't see it that way. It is clear that you still love Miss Anne, at least to Benwick, Margaret and myself yet you've hurt her and yourself by your behaviour.”

“What do you mean it's clear that I still love Anne?”

“Frederick, stop acting as though you don't know what I mean. I know that you were devastated when Miss Anne broke her engagement with you but did you ever stop to think that it hurt her as much as it hurt you? Look, I never said anything because you were obviously hurting and then you clearly didn't want to talk about it but think about this logically; try to see it from her point of view. She was nineteen with a family that, having met them, clearly don't give a damn about her and the only person who had looked out for her was advising against the engagement. You were slightly older than her, a low-ranking officer in the Royal Navy with no ship or prize-money at the time and we were at war. If she had been my daughter, I would have advised caution as well.”

“How can you say that Harville?”

“How can I not?Margaret's father did exactly the same thing when I proposed to her. I was a virtually penniless midshipman and he, quite rightly, knew how precarious that position was. Instead, what he suggested – and what I think Miss Anne's Lady Russell should have suggested – was a long engagement. We married the minute I hit land having made lieutenant.”

“What are you saying Harville? That you think Anne still loved me when she ended our engagement?”

“I think she was a very young woman who was persuaded to do something that she didn't necessarily wanted to do. Yes, I think she still loved you when she ended your engagement. I think she still loves you now.”

Frederick felt his legs buckle underneath him and reached out to grasp Harville's shoulder in an attempt to steady himself. The thought that Anne hadn't truly wanted to break their engagement, that she had loved him then and she might indeed still love him now was more than he could truly comprehend.

“If, _if,_ you're telling the truth and you think that Anne could still love me, what do you suggest that I do?”

“You need to distance yourself from Miss Louisa and, from your previous behaviour, it would be best if you left Miss Anne alone to allow her to recuperate. At least for a couple of weeks. Once that has been done, then you can start trying to redeem yourself with Miss Anne.”

Frederick paused for a long time, letting Harville's words sink in and doing his best to not fly off the handle at his friends brutally honest words. Thankfully, not only was Harville used to Frederick's sometimes mercurial moods and, after all their years together, Frederick knew that Harville wouldn't spare his words if he felt that they were something that Frederick needed to her. Deep down, he knew that Harville was right, that he had to do what his friends were suggesting, for Anne, if not for his potential future happiness. Taking a deep breath, he spoke.

“When must I go?”

Harville stumbled slightly. “You will?”

“You seem surprised.”

“I have to admit that I am somewhat amazed by your easy acquiescence; I was expecting far more resistance. You can stay until Miss Anne regains consciousness. As soon as she does then it would be best if you leave Lyme.”

“And go where? If I'm to be avoiding the Musgroves then I can hardly go back to Sophy and the Admiral at Kellynch.”

“How about visiting Edward in Shropshire? You said that you've been meaning to visit him and it would get you away from both Miss Anne and Miss Louisa.”

“Then it's settled, I bow to the better judgement of Margaret and yourself. As soon as Anne awakes I will go away to Edward's.”

“Good man. Now come on, let's get you fed and bathed then Margaret might let you in to see your Miss Anne.”

“Here's hoping. Your Margaret holds that door most formidably.”

“That she does Frederick, that she does. Why do you think I married her?”

“Well here I was thinking that she was the only woman who'd marry you.”

~*~

The instant that Lady Russell's carriage disappeared down the main road of Lyme, heading back towards Bath, Frederick left the house. He was in desperate need of time to himself, if only so that he could rage in private. He had known that the lady disliked him years ago but he certainly hadn't been expecting her to blame him for Anne's accident and hold him responsible for her current situation. Of course, Frederick blamed himself for what had happened for, if it were not for him, Anne would never have been in Lyme in the first place. However, logically, he knew that any one of the ladies could have fallen from the Cobb in those conditions.

Not even the fact that Anne had awoken the previous evening and had been pronounced out of danger by the surgeon and moved to the Harvilles home had placated her. Lady Russell had been distinctly unimpressed that Anne was not well enough to be removed to Bath and be cared for there. She had clearly thought the Harvilles home was beneath Anne and her recovery, despite the fact that not only had they offered up their home for Anne's recovery but that Margaret Harville's nursing had been highly praised by the surgeon. Still, the Harvilles themselves had been nothing but grace and civility personified while Frederick himself had resorted to biting his tongue to prevent him from saying something that he would later regret.

Even so, by the time that Lady Russell finally left, having been assured that Anne would receive the best possible care and that, as soon as she was strong enough, she would remove to Bath to continue convalescing, Frederick was close to exploding. He walked the cliffs and shoreline for hours, not even stopping when darkness fell. Having finally been driven inside by the biting winds, well after the dinner hour, Frederick couldn't help but overhear the conversation between Harry Harville and his wife.

“Harry? I found this in Miss Anne's trunk. Have you seen anything like it before? It's not something that I would have expected her to have. I wonder where she got it.”

Frederick's attention had been caught by Margaret's words, intrigued by what Anne could possibly have brought with her. Poking his head around the doorway into the room that the Harvilles were sitting in, his felt his breath catch in his throat and his heart stop in his chest. In his hand, Harville held a very familiar wooden carving. His eyes fixed on the small object, he swallowed heavily before speaking, wincing slightly at the rawness of his voice.

“It was mine. I made it as a mid and gave it to her eight years ago. She kept it. She _kept_ it.”

Moving into the room properly, Frederick reached out and took the small wooden ship from Harville's hand with shaking fingers. He could remember the exact moment that he had given this to Anne, sat under a tree in a secluded corner of Kellynch. Anne had promised to take good care of it and she had clearly kept her word. He wondered why she had brought it with her to Lyme, wondered if it meant something.

Completely focused on the item in his hand and ignoring his friends, he drifted up the stairs to the room which was occupied by Anne. Standing in the doorway, he drank in the sight of her sleeping peacefully, relishing the small movements that reassured him that she was now out of danger and no longer unconscious.

“ _Frederick.”_

The soft mutter of his name drew him into the room like a moth to a flame. Anne didn't say anything more though, even though he lingered by her bedside. He knew that he couldn't stay though, just in case she woke up. Leaning over, he placed the ship on the bedside table where Anne would see it as soon as she woke up and then placed a soft kiss on Anne's forehead. He would leave for Shropshire in the morning and then he would set about making this up to Anne, making her see that he still loved her.

That he had loved no-one but her for the last eight years.

~*~

The weeks that he spent in Shropshire with his brother were agonising. He wanted nothing more than to be in Lyme with Anne, not trapped in a country parsonage and reliant upon letters from Harville bringing him news. Particularly when Edward had married within the last year and was seemingly still in a state of delirious bliss that Frederick had never seen on his normally staid older brother. Only the thought that this course of action might free him from Louisa Musgrove kept him there. He loved his brother but they had never had much in common and Frederick had always been much closer to Sophy. Still, he had occupied himself well enough with walks and rides through the countryside not to mention the countless letters to Anne that he started but never completed. He could simply never find the right words to say.

He had thus been overjoyed to receive a letter from Benwick, writing to ask as to Frederick's feelings for Miss Louisa Musgrove. While Frederick had been in Shropshire with Edward, Benwick had remained at Uppercross to provide a familiar face and comfort to the Harville children while their parents were occupied with caring for Anne. Whilst there, having spent a considerable amount of time in each others company, Benwick and Louisa had grown close and fallen in love. However, not wanting to disrespect the man who had done so much for him when Fanny had died, Benwick had refused to do anything until he had spoken to Frederick.

Relieved beyond belief that he was removed of his obligation to Louisa, Frederick had written back by express to say that he was delighted for them and giving them his blessing. He had stayed only long enough to write the express, pack his things and say farewell to Edward and his wife before setting out for Lyme. His every thought was on Anne and what he would say to her when he saw her again. Only to discover, when he arrived at the Harvilles, that she wasn't there.

“But, where's Anne? I was expecting to still find her here.”

“She's away to Bath Frederick, not three days past. That godmother of hers came and swept her away in a fancy carriage. There was a man with her – that man from the Cobb before Miss Anne fell. Apparently, he's her cousin; a Mr William Elliot.”

Frederick didn't like the sound of that; he had seen the way that the man had looked at Anne on the Cobb and had been discomfited by it. But, just because he had accompanied her, it didn't mean anything. Frederick still had time, he was just going to have to move a little bit faster and, well, there was no time like the present.

“I don't suppose you fancy a trip to Bath, do you Harville?”


	4. Anne

The first thing that Anne was aware of when she first woke up was the blinding pain in her head and the fact that her entire body felt as though it was bruised. Her head was muggy but she was still able to make out a very familiar voice talking to her. She would, after all, recognise the voice of Frederick Wentworth anywhere. It didn't make sense though. Why would Frederick be talking to her when he had all but ignored her since his arrival? She had to be imagining things, there was no other explanation for it. She made an attempt to open her eyes but the sunlight streaming into the room just made the pain in her head worse and, when given the choice between pain and the blissful dark oblivious of sleep, she chose the latter.

The next time she awoke, it was easier. She was still in a lot of pain but it didn't seem quite as unbearable as it had done. Still, she didn't quite dare open her eyes quite yet and instead lay with her eyes shut. Once again, she could hear voices but they were different this time. Her head still felt muffled but she was able to identify Mary's voice without any trouble. The other voice sounded familiar but she wasn't completely able to identify it. Ever so slowly, she started to open her eyes and was relieved that the light wasn't as bright as it had been the first time that she woke and she was able to open her eyes fully.

Unable to see who was talking she tried to raise her head but, when she did so, the pain exploded in her head and she sank back onto the pillows with a soft moan. The sound brought the other occupants of the room rushing over and Anne was able to put the vaguely familiar voice to the face of Margaret Harville.

“M...” Anne tried to speak but found her throat far too dry. Luckily for her, Mrs Harville sprang into action.

“Hush, don't try to speak yet. Mrs Musgrove, if you would be so kind as to send Captain Wentworth for the surgeon. I have no doubt that he's lurking somewhere.”

Anne's head was spinning but before she could say anything, Mrs Harville was pressing a damp cloth to her lips and speaking again.

“I can't give you anything or move you until the surgeon has seen you but this should do for the moment. You have no idea what a relief it is to see you awake.”

Anne smiled gratefully at the other woman who, it was not difficult to surmise, had been the lady caring for her. The instant that Mary returned the silence was broken as she spoke of how inconsiderate of Anne it was to have fallen and how she was not suited to the sickroom and that the sooner Anne could be removed from Lyme the better. The surgeon's arrival could not have been more fortuitous and Anne could have cried in relief when he sent her sister away to take tea while he examined Anne.

As it was, a few tears escaped to slide down her cheeks as the doctor carried out his examination, inspecting the wound to her head and moving her limbs. She couldn't help but smile gratefully at Mrs Harville when the older woman wiped them away without comment. As the surgeon concluded his examination, she looked at him expectantly.

“Well, Miss Elliot, you're a very lucky young lady. I was hoping that you would wake up soon enough but you never can be sure with head wounds. It's started healing nicely but you're still going to feel bruised and will be susceptible to headaches for a few days yet. And definitely no travel.”

“Would it be possible for Miss Elliot to be removed to our home rather than staying here?”

“That would be acceptable. Certainly no long distance travel. But Miss Elliot is not to be moved at all until tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you.”

Anne closed her eyes briefly as the surgeon was ushered out, blocking out Mary's anxious fretting as best as she could. She opened them again at the sound of footsteps returning to the bedside in time to see Margaret Harville reappear.

“Harry's gone to send expresses to the Musgroves and your godmother; they'll have it before they retire for the night and we'll let them know that you'll be staying with us.”

“Oh, I don't want to put you...”

“Miss Elliot, please. You're not putting us out in the slightest and I'll be most offended if you choose to stay here instead. You won't get the proper care here. I've already told Mrs Musgrove that she's more than welcome to stay with us as well.”

As foggy as her mind was, Anne was fairly certain hat Mary had already turned down Mrs Harvilles offer and, if she hadn't done so already, she soon would.

“Now, I'll send for some broth and some tea then once you've had that, we can see about making you feel a bit more comfortable.”

As the woman made for the door again, Anne reached out and grasped her wrist weakly. “Mrs Harville … thank you.”

“Save your thanks, they're unnecessary. Any friend of Frederick's is a friend of ours.” Mrs Harville paused before her next words, said with a hint of mischief that Anne hadn't expected. “Particularly when they mean as much to him as you clearly do.”

As Margaret Harville disappeared out of the door, she left a shocked and confused Anne to ponder her words.

~*~

Anne was no less confused the following morning. The surgeon had been to see her first thing that morning, before she was even truly awake and had pronounced her suitably recovered to be removed to the Harvilles home on the condition that she were not to walk anywhere and that she was put to bed the instant that she arrived. Thus, Anne was forced to endure being carried by Captain Wentworth for the short journey from the inn to the small cottage that the Harvilles called home as apparently there was no other suitable mode of transport to be had in all of Lyme. She had dared to look up at him once but having caught sight of his stony gaze and clenched jaw, she had spent the rest of the trip looking resolutely at her hands.

The minute that she arrived in the Harvilles home, Mrs Harville and her nursemaid took over. Anne was summarily given a sponge bath, changed into a clean nightdress and ensconced in bed with a light breakfast laid in front of her. Noticing the quietness of the house, Anne asked after the children and was a little perturbed to find that they had returned to Uppercross with Mary and Benwick that morning. Any protests Anne might have had died on her lips as, exhausted from the mornings slight activity, she fell asleep the instant that she finished her breakfast.

When she awoke several hours later, it was to the sight and sound of Lady Russell tutting over her trunk. For the first time since her accident, there was no sign of Mrs Harville. She called out softly as she started to sit up, calling the attention of her godmother who rushed over instantly.

“Oh Anne! I received the express last night and left as soon as I could this morning. What a horrible thing to happen; I knew you shouldn't have come to Lyme. How are you feeling? Why is there no doctor here?”

“I'm feeling much better, thank you Lady Russell. And I saw the surgeon this morning and he was very happy with my progress.”

Lady Russell pursed her lips in disgust. “A surgeon? No, that will not do. You must see a proper doctor, not some backwater hack. Neither is this place suitable for a lady of your standing. Yes, yes, we must get you back to Bath as soon as possible. And what was Mary thinking leaving you here? That girl is so selfish.”

Before Anne could speak, there was a chink of china in the doorway and Anne flushed with mortification that Mrs Harville, who had been nothing but kindness itself, had heard her godmother's snobbery.

“I'm afraid that that simply won't be possible Lady Russell.” If she had heard anything, then Margaret Harville wasn't letting on. “The surgeon has banned Miss Elliot from travelling for several weeks or at least until he is satisfied with her progress.”

Lady Russell sputtered in response. “But that is preposterous. How is my god-daughter expected to recuperate in a place like this? She is an Elliot of Kellynch Hall and she deserves the very best care not to be slumming it in some beach hovel. Especially not under the same roof as the man who is at fault for her situation. No, this is not to be tolerated. Anne needs to see a proper doctor.”

“Lady Russell, please ...” Anne beseeched her godmother but the woman would not be placated and, seeing Anne's distress, Mrs Harville stepped into the breach once more.

“Lady Russell, I'm afraid that I will have to ask you to move downstairs, you're distressing my patient.”

“I'm sorry? Are you asking me to leave?”

“No. I'm telling you to leave. You may see Miss Elliot again at lunch.”

The shock on Lady Russell's face was clear as she was ushered towards the door. Anne was positive that the expression was mirrored on her own; she had never seen anyone deal with her godmother in such a manner and she couldn't help but be impressed. She opened her mouth to speak but words failed her. She needn't have worried though as Mrs Harville leant over and squeezed her hand.

“Just rest, Miss Elliot. Take some tea and then see if you can get some sleep.”

“I seem to have done nothing but sleep since I woke up,” Anne grumbled.

“You have done nothing but sleep because that is exactly what you need. We will keep your godmother occupied while you rest and I'll bring her back with your lunch.”

“Thank you Mrs Harville. You've been so kind.”

“I think, in the circumstances, you may as well call me Margaret, Miss Elliot.”

“In that case, it's Anne.”

“Very well Anne. Get some rest,” Margaret's mouth twisted wryly as the sound of raised voices floated up from downstairs, “if you can.”

(~*~)

Despite the periodically raised voices, Anne was able to get some rest and woke much closer to lunchtime feeling slightly better than she had done that morning. Once again, Lady Russell was in the room but, unlike the morning, she was sat in the chair by the bedside rather than examining Anne's trunk. The lady had clearly just been waiting for Anne to wake as she started speaking almost the instant that Anne stirred.

“Now Anne dear, despite my misgivings I have accepted that travel is absolutely out of the question at the present but I have spoken to Mrs Harville and she has assured me that the minute you are ready to travel, she will send word to me and I will come and collect you. But, I am not happy about leaving you in this place. It is not at all suitable for you to be staying here with these people and especially _that man_. What on earth was he thinking, taking you out in those conditions. You would think a sailor would know better, especially a Captain.”

“Lady Russell, _please._ ” Anne loved her godmother dearly but, at this precise moment, she didn't feel able to deal with the older woman's disdain.

Lady Russell had never been enamoured with Frederick and, indeed, had been the driving force behind Anne breaking the engagement. At the time, young as she was, Anne had believed that she was acting in Anne's best interests but she had since come to see that rather than thinking of Anne, Lady Russell had simply thought that Frederick Wentworth wasn't good enough for her god-daughter. The realisation had hurt Anne but she had never commented on it, believing that she would never see Frederick again anyway. Except now he was back and Anne's whole world was a mass of confusion.

“Very well. As there is nothing that I can do here, I will make my way back to Bath. I am incredibly unhappy about this though and goodness knows what your father would say. Your trunk is seriously lacking. What on earth was Mary thinking? She could have easily had Charles send some more of your things with the carriage that came to collect her.  Just because you're living somewhere that is beneath you doesn't mean that you can stoop to similar levels. I shall send some things along the instant that I get back to Bath.”

“Thank you, Lady Russell.” What else could Anne say? She did not agree with what the woman was saying but not only did she not want to be rude to the one person who had guided her since her mother died, she was still  feeling battered and exhausted.

As Margaret Harville appeared in the door, a tray in her hands, Lady Russell rose and bent down to press a kiss to Anne's forehead.

“Take care of yourself, Anne dear. I hope that I will see you in Bath before too long,” and with those parting words, Lady Russell swept out of the room.

Not much more than five minutes later, Anne heard the clatter of hooves on cobbles and relaxed, picking at the lunch tray she had been brought while Margaret Harville sat by with her needlework simply providing some much needed company and leaving Anne to her thoughts.

~*~

The following morning, Anne woke up to the sound of horses hooves and voices talking outside the cottage. Blinking blearily against the morning light, she opened her eyes to see an item placed on her bedside table that hadn't been there the previous evening when she went to sleep. She was instantly more awake the second that she realised what it was. Anne hadn't taken the little wooden ship out of her trunk since her arrival in Lyme so what was it now doing on her bedside table?

As Anne reached out to clasp it in her hand, there seemed to be a surge of activity outside and she half-rose from the bed. She knew that she shouldn't even be thinking about getting out of bed but, driven by curiosity, she stumbled the few steps to the window feeling far weaker than she had expected. She got there just in time to see Frederick mount his horse and cast his gaze up to her window, their eyes meeting briefly before he wheeled his horse around and galloped away from the Harvilles cottage. Not knowing what to do, and feeling more confused than ever, Anne crumpled where she stood, one hand clutching the little wooden ship to her chest.

And that was where Margaret Harville found her when she came bearing a breakfast tray.

“Miss Anne! What are you doing down there? Are you okay?”

“I- I … uhm.”

“Come on. Let's get you back to bed and get you some tea.”

Anne allowed Margaret to help her back into bed and accepted a cup of tea although she refused to let got of the ship. Finally, fortified by a cup of sugared tea, she had the courage to ask a question.

“Where … um, Fred- Captain Wentworth has left?”

“I'm afraid so, Miss Elliot. He's headed for his brothers in Shropshire.”

Anne wasn't entirely certain how she felt about that but it definitely wasn't the answer that she had been expecting. “Shropshire? So, he – he hasn't gone back to Uppercross?”

There was a pause before Margaret spoke. “It was decided that it was for the best if Frederick didn't return to the Admiral and Mrs Croft for a while.”

Anne looked down at her lap, unconsciously clutching the carving to her chest as she felt Mrs Harvilles scrutiny, not knowing what to say. The problem was taken out of her hands when Margaret spoke.

“Anne, I know that we don't know each other particularly well but will you let me speak frankly?”

Not trusting her voice, Anne nodded tentatively.

“You knew Frederick before the Admiral and Mrs Croft leased Kellynch didn't you?”

Anne smiled tremulously. “How much do you know?”

“I know that Frederick made and gave you that carving you clutch so tightly. I know that you were engaged to each other and that you broke said engagement eight years ago.”

Hot tears sprang to Anne's eyes and ran down her cheeks unbidden as she tried to muffle the sob that threatened to escape her throat.

“Anne, have you ever spoken about this to anybody? The rest of your party seemed oblivious to the history between you and Frederick.”

Anne shook her head. “The only people who ever really knew were my father and Lady Russell, maybe my eldest sister Elizabeth. Nobody else though.”

“Then talk to me. _Please._ You and Frederick are both so clearly hurting and you needn't be. Please, talk to me. You might find that it helps.”

Anne wasn't sure how she felt at the prospect of talking about this to Margaret Harville, not when she barely knew her, however nice she had been. But, Anne was so confused by Frederick's behaviour that she needed to talk to someone and she could hardly speak to any of her family. Margaret Harville was undoubtedly her best option. Falteringly, she started to talk, unloading everything that she had kept hidden for eight years.

“I was nineteen when I met Frederick. His brother Edward was the curate at Monkford, which is the parish closest to Kellynch and Frederick was visiting while he had shore leave. He was on the Asp at the time if I remember correctly. We became acquainted gradually but, well, once we had become acquainted we fell in love very quickly.” Anne laughed almost bitterly, “We were ecstatically happy, both of us and when Frederick proposed, I accepted without hesitation. We knew that it wasn't ideal but we were in love and we didn't care. Frederick gave me this carving a couple of days after our engagement and I promised that I would take good care of it. At least I was able to keep one promise.”

Anne paused for breath before she continued. “Frederick visited my Father to ask his permission to marry me. It didn't go well. My Father didn't even deign to give Frederick an answer, he thought the whole thing was beneath him. Still, we were adamant that we would be married, young enough to believe that love would prevail no matter what. And then Lady Russell returned from Bath.

You must understand, Mrs Har- Margaret, my mother died when I was a young girl. Elizabeth is very much my father's daughter while Mary was much younger and not quite as affected as I. I adored my mother and missed her cruelly when she died. Lady Russell had been one of my mother's closest friends as well as being my godmother and she stepped in to help guide me once my mother had passed. She was far from happy at my news. I had already started to have a few doubts about whether us marrying at such a young age was a good idea; Frederick seemed to talk as though he had such a promising career in the Navy and I couldn't help but wonder if he would achieve that career with a young wife on land.

Lady Russell convinced me that it would be best for Frederick if I broke the engagement. That, if he truly loved me, he would understand. It has only been over the years that I have since realised that her reasons for convincing me to break the engagement were not for the reasons that I believed; she encouraged me to break the engagement because she didn't feel that he was good enough for me. Regardless, Frederick left the county hating me and, until a few weeks ago, I had never thought to see him again. 

And then, of course, Admiral and Mrs Croft let Kellynch from my father and not longer after their arrival came Frederick. Just as he was. I never wanted to break our engagement and I never stopped loving him. Not that it matters. Frederick has made his feelings towards me perfectly clear and they do not include love; he has never forgiven me for my actions eight years ago. And there you have it, my entire history with Frederick Wentworth.”

Having finally talked about everything that had happened eight years ago, talked about things that she hadn't spoken about to anybody about ever, Anne slumped back against the pillows exhausted.

“Would you like to know what I think, Anne?”

Anne nodded, not entirely sure that she wanted to hear what somebody else thought of her actions.

“I think that you were both young, you both made mistakes and you have both suffered for it. Maybe you shouldn't have listened to Lady Russell quite so much and maybe Frederick shouldn't have departed quite so hastily. Even so, what has been done cannot be undone. A lot of time may have passed but this is still raw for both of you and I think that you need to talk to each other, see if you can start afresh.”

“But, how? Frederick has barely spoken me since we met. He said that I was so altered that he should not have known me again.”

Margaret leant forward and unclasped Anne's hand from around the carved ship. “I think that you'll find that Frederick has come to a few realisations and will be more than willing to talk to you.”

~*~

Anne couldn't help but smile as she saw Sophy Croft crossing the room towards her, the older woman's face wreathed in smiles. She had been in Bath for ten days now and she already felt stifled by the town and its occupants. It hadn't helped that Lady Russell, still feeling that Anne couldn't possibly have received satisfactory care in Lyme, had practically smothered her since her arrival. Anne knew that her godmother was only doing it because she cared but was finding it hard being trapped in her family's company after the far more pleasant society, at least to her, of the Harvilles.

It hadn't helped that barely a day went by without the presence of Mr Elliot. Indeed, Anne was half convinced that were the man to move into Camden Place they wouldn't see him any more. The thing that Anne didn't understand was why he was currently trying so hard to ingratiate himself into her family. He had avoided them for years but now he seemed to be there all the time. Anne had been in Lyme barely three weeks but, in that time, he seemed to have not only the occupants of Camden Place but Lady Russell as well wrapped around his little finger. It was most disconcerting.

He also seemed to be far too interested in Anne for her liking. She disliked the way that he tried to monopolise her wherever possible but found it quite difficult to dissuade him without being overly rude. She was also getting heartily sick of all the unhappy looks she was the recipient of from Elizabeth and Penelope Clay, both of whom would much prefer to be the object of Mr Elliot's attention. Unfortunately for Anne, she could hardly blurt out that there was only one mans regard that she wanted and he was currently in Shropshire, however much she may wish to. She didn't know what it was though, but there were just too many things about Mr Elliot that didn't make sense, too many holes in his stories. Not to mention the fact that there was just something about him that she didn't like, that she didn't trust.

Hoping to avoid both him and an afternoon with Elizabeth and Mrs Clay, Anne had persuaded Lady Russell that she was feeling much better but that a trip to the Pump Room to take the waters might prove beneficial. Once at the Pump Rooms, it hadn't taken long for Lady Russell to be drawn away by a variety of acquaintances, leaving Anne in much needed solitude. Nevertheless, she was still highly delighted to see Mrs Croft.

As the older lady drew closer, Anne half-rose from her seat, taking Mrs Croft's outstretched hands and accepting the affectionate kiss pressed to her cheek,

“It's so lovely to see you Mrs Croft.”

“And you, Miss Anne. I've tried to call on you several times but your door has been guarded quite fiercely.”

Anne couldn't help but join in with Mrs Croft's laughter. “It has indeed. Today has been the first day that I've been allowed out.”

“How are you feeling Miss Anne? I was so concerned when we heard what had happened from the Musgroves and Frederick was less than helpful. Honestly, that boy!”

Anne couldn't help but chuckle at hearing a respected, successful Naval Captain being described as 'that boy', even if her feelings about Frederick Wentworth were still hugely conflicted.

“I'm feeling much better, thank you Mrs Croft. I still tire a bit too easily but otherwise fine. Mrs Harville and her nursemaid took incredibly good care of me.”

“I'm glad to hear it. I've never met Mrs Harville but we have met Captain Harville on several occasions when he and Frederick still sailed together. But, now that you've been allowed out hopefully we will see more of you?”

“Of course! But how long have you been in Bath?”

“Scarcely as long as you have. The Admiral never does well on land; we thought that taking the waters might help. And here he comes now.”

The Admiral was indeed coming towards them and Anne couldn't help but respond to his beaming smile.

“Miss Anne! What a pleasure it is to see you up and at 'em.”

“Thank you Admiral. How are you enjoying Bath?”

“Not at all, my dear, not at all. Too many society types for my liking. Still, it seems as though half the officers in the Navy are here at the moment and Frederick and Captain Harville will be joining us tomorrow so we shall not want for company that we like.”

“C-Captain Wentworth is coming to Bath?”

“Aye, the lad is footloose and fancy free. The Musgrove girl is marrying Frederick's former lieutenant. Oh, what's his name Sophy?”

“James Benwick, dear.”

“Benwick! That's the cove! He came to Uppercross with the Harville children and he and the young chit fell in love. And we all thought that she had set her sights on our Frederick. A bit hard on Frederick but he doesn't seem to mind one jot – said he was very happy for them in his express. I say, are you alright Miss Anne?”

“I'm sorry but did you say that Louisa Musgrove and James Benwick are engaged to be married?”

“Indeed I did. Ah, Lady Russell … I didn't see you there.”

“Admiral, Mrs Croft. I'm afraid that I've come to take Anne home; she's looking a little too pale for my liking.”

Anne rose and said her farewells in a complete daze, blindly following Lady Russell out of the Pump Rooms. Louisa Musgrove was to marry James Benwick. Frederick was still unattached. Frederick was coming to Bath, was already on his way.

It was too much to comprehend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you would prefer to comment on LJ, you can do so [here](http://vix-spes.livejournal.com/194070.html)


	5. Sophy

To say that Sophy Croft was disappointed when Frederick went to stay with their older brother rather than returning to her and her husband at Kellynch was an understatement. She couldn't blame Frederick for going to see Edward. After all, they hadn't seen each other in years but that wasn't the point. Even though Frederick had come to Kellynch to spend time with Sophy, it seemed as though she had barely spent any time with him at all. Almost as soon as he had arrived, the Musgrove girls had got their claws into him then he had been off to Lyme and then straight for Shropshire. Although she was placated somewhat by his promise to come to Bath from Shropshire and spend some time with Sophy and the Admiral.

Life at Kellynch had been far more exciting than Sophy had envisaged when the Admiral had announced that he had taken the house. Sophy had imagined a peaceful life with the two of them able to enjoy each others company without the demands of being on-board ship and plenty of opportunities to spend time with her younger brother and get lost in deserted country lanes. There had been plenty of the latter but she hadn't expected quite so much drama from the former. It had been years since she had seen Frederick, what with her travelling with her husband and Frederick's naval career with nothing but intermittent letters to tide them over.

She didn't know what she had been expecting but the Frederick that had turned up had been the complete opposite of the Frederick from his letters. He always seemed so vehemently against marriage, regardless of the happiness that both of his siblings had found yet, barely five minutes after his arrival he had been announcing that he was looking for a wife. That announcement had delighted Sophy but, despite her husbands approval, she had been less than impressed with the two young women that had caught Frederick's eye.

As pleasant as the Musgrove girls were, they were precisely that – girls – and hardly suitable marriage material. Especially for a sailor. Sophy had found much merriment at the thought of Louisa Musgrove aboard ship. The girl might be pretty and accomplished but she would never be able to cope with the demands of life aboard ship and, regardless of what Frederick said about no women aboard his ship, Sophy was willing to bet that he would make an exception for his wife. Unfortunately, Frederick had been paying far too much attention to the Musgrove girls and Sophy was getting a little concerned that all of the Musgrove women were convinced that a wedding was just around the corner. And then her stupid younger brother had to make it all worse by also taking them with him to Lyme although he had slightly redeemed himself by also taking the younger Mr and Mrs Musgrove and Miss Anne Elliot.

Miss Anne, now there was a young woman that Sophy Croft approved of heartily. She may not be as obviously pretty as the Musgrove girls, Louisa in particular, but Sophy had the feeling that it was Anne who, with a little bit of care and cosseting, that was the true beauty. Not only that but she was charming, good-natured and steady as a rock. She had quickly become a favourite of both Sophy and the Admiral, with the latter remarking that Miss Anne would make the perfect sailors wife and Sophy was inclined to agree with him. If only Frederick had taken to Miss Anne instead of Miss Louisa but, for some reason that Sophy could not fathom, her brother seemed to disparage everything the young woman said or ignore her entirely while Miss Anne did her very best to fade even more into the background.

It was all truly bewildering. If it had been anybody else, Sophy would have thought that there was a history between the two of them but neither Frederick nor Edward had ever mentioned anything and her husband had reproached her for nosiness when she had posited approaching Frederick. Faced with no other option, she had put her suspicions aside and simply focused on befriending Anne.

And then Lyme had happened and all of Sophy's suspicions were resurrected.

They hadn't heard from the party since they had decamped to Lyme but then again, they hadn't really expected to. The first that they had heard of Anne's accident was when an express arrived from Charles Musgrove informing them of what had happened and that he was returning with his sisters but that Mrs Mary Musgrove and Frederick would be remaining in Lyme. It was this that first set the alarm bells ringing in Sophy's head. It made perfect sense for Mary Musgrove to stay in Lyme although what use she would be in nursing her sister Sophy didn't know. What didn't make sense was Frederick staying in Lyme. He didn't even appear to like Anne most of the time and it made even less sense once Louisa Musgrove had returned to Uppercross with no sign of Frederick. By the time that Sophy received word from Frederick that he was heading to Shropshire to see Edward, Sophy was convinced that there was a hidden past between her youngest brother and Miss Anne Elliot.

In an attempt to find out more, Sophy continued her visits to Uppercross, despite the fact that the only woman that she could truly stand wasn't there. She didn't find out anything about Frederick and Anne – if there was a history there then they were the only two who knew it – but she did find out a few interesting tidbits about Anne and her relationship with the infamous Lady Russell, who Sophy still had yet to meet. Sophy had felt her jaw drop when she heard that Charles Musgrove had proposed to Anne only to be declined, unable to imagine Anne being swallowed up even more by the Musgrove family.

There was even less information about how Anne's recovery was progressing once Mrs Mary Musgrove returned to Uppercross. Sophy hadn't had the highest opinion of the youngest Elliot daughter – after all, what kind of mother leaves her injured son at home while she goes to a dinner party – but her opinion of the woman sunk even lower when she left the care of her own sister to a virtual stranger. Mary Musgrove also seemed to have little interest in the progress of her sisters recovery so, when no further details beyond the initial express reporting Anne's awakening and removal to the Harville's were forthcoming, Sophy took it upon herself to find out what was happening. Not bothering to inform the Musgroves, Sophy wrote directly to Margaret Harville to enquire about the state of Anne's health and requesting that their correspondence be kept private. Having the reassurance from Mrs Harville that Anne was recovering well eased Sophy's mind while the entirety of Uppercross watched the interactions between Louisa Musgrove and Captain James Benwick with fascination.

When it had first become known that, rather than returning to Uppercross, Frederick would instead be travelling to Shropshire, Sophy had been disappointed but not completely surprised. However, as the weeks started to pass and there was no word from Frederick either to Sophy or to a certain Miss Musgrove who had been convinced that he loved her, Sophy knew that she wouldn't end up closely related to the Musgroves, much to her relief. Clearly Frederick's interest had been superficial and never serious, simply a mere flirtation, and he had had no intention of marrying the girl. Not that Miss Musgrove seemed too devastated if her flirtations with Captain Benwick were anything to go by. Indeed, the announcement of the engagement between Miss Louisa Musgrove and Captain James Benwick was made the evening before Sophy and the Admiral departed for Bath to take the waters.

~*~

The first few days in Bath were far more pleasant than Sophy had imagined. They had taken a house in Gay Street that was perfectly charming and cosy and also had enough room for Frederick when he arrived, as Sophy hoped. Not only that but it seemed as though half the Navy was in Bath. They could hardly turn a corner without bumping into somebody that the Admiral knew. Sophy couldn't help but feel glad about that for her husbands sake. The Admiral had never dealt particularly well with being on land after a lifetime at sea so, despite greatly enjoying their time at Kellynch, they had decamped to Bath to take the waters. Even so, Sophy had the feeling that it might be the society of his fellow Naval colleagues that had a greater impact on the Admirals health.

They had been in Bath for several days when Sophy, who had been having tea at the Assembly Rooms with several other Navy wives, overheard that Miss Anne Elliot had finally been deemed suitably healed and moved back to Bath to continue recuperating. The news delighted Sophy. She hadn't heard any news about Anne since her first and only letter from Margaret Harville so even a small scrap of information was welcome news and she resolved to visit Anne as soon as possible.

The following morning, having packed her husband off to spend some time with his friends, Sophy Croft made her way to Camden Place. She wasn't sure how welcome she would be. After all, she wasn't at all acquainted with Sir Walter or the eldest Miss Elliot but she hoped that her friendship with Anne would be enough to gain her entry. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough. Her friendship with Anne might have been enough to get Sophy entrance into the house in Camden Place but it wasn't enough to allow Sophy access to the actual lady she wanted to see.

Instead, she finally came face to face with Lady Russell. The lady was perfectly cordial and pleasant but steely in her determination that there was absolutely no way that Sophy would be seeing Miss Anne. Her godmother was adamant that seeing visitors would be detrimental to the young ladies recuperation. Sophy found herself summarily dismissed and heading back to Gay Street far sooner than she had been expecting. Not that Sophy was cowed in the slightest, she was determined to return until she was finally granted admittance beyond the parlour.

(~*~)

A week later, Sophy's determination had taken a battering. Lady Russell kept the door to Camden Place fiercely guarded and Sophy still hadn't been able to see Anne. What did worry Sophy was the gossip that she heard about a certain William Walter Elliot, a relative of Sir Walter who had been estranged from the family for a number of years but had not been welcomed back into the fold. Rumour had it that he was seen at Camden Place every day and that he would soon be marrying one of the Elliot daughters, bringing him firmly into favour. Most of the speculation centred around Miss Elizabeth Elliot as they had been seen together in town alongside her companion Mrs Penelope Clay but a few commented that Miss Anne should not be forgotten.

Sophy most definitely wanted Miss Anne to be forgotten. She had seen Mr Elliot around town and there was just something about him that she didn't like, didn't trust. Besides, Sophy was still hoping that being able to call Anne her sister-in-law one day wasn't simply a fantastical dream. What had given that hope a boost had been a letter from Frederick to say that he and Harville were heading to Bath and would be there as quickly as their horses could carry them.

Having been persuaded to take a day off from visiting Camden Place, Sophy and the Admiral paid a visit to the Pump Rooms to meet with some of their acquaintances. They had been there for almost an hour when, through a gap in the crowds, she saw the one person that she wanted to see. Excusing herself from the people that they were sat with, Sophy made her way across the room, seeing Miss Anne rise to greet her.

Taking Anne's outstretched hands, Sophy squeezed them tightly and pressed an affectionate kiss to Anne's cheek before seating herself next to Anne on the chaise. She couldn't help but be pleased to see that Anne seemed as delighted to see Sophy as Sophy was to see her. Nevertheless, as they exchanged small talk, Sophy couldn't help but be concerned by how pale and fragile Anne appeared to be. Still, she was able to gain some comfort from the fact that she made the young lady laugh.

Unsurprisingly, considering who she was talking to, it didn't take long for Sophy's husband to join them, all smiles at seeing Miss Anne again. Ever since the news that Frederick was single again and especially since his letter that he was coming to Bath, the Admiral had been speculating about finding him a wife and, considering that Anne was a particular favourite of theirs, he had been positing the middle Elliot daughter as a potential wife for Frederick. Regardless of how much Sophy agreed with him, she hadn't said anything out loud. After all, she still didn't know what the history between Anne and Frederick was and, of course, there were all of the rumours about Mr William Elliot and a certain Anne Elliot floating around.

And then, of course, Sophy's darling husband managed to put his foot in it by not only mentioning the fact that Frederick was due in Bath the following day but also that Miss Louisa Musgrove was now engaged to Captain Benwick. Sophy hadn't thought it possible for Anne to get any paler but she did and so quickly that Sophy was afraid that she might swoon. Within seconds, Lady Russell was by their sides making excuses and leading away a visibly dazed Anne. Unable to do anything, Sophy was clearly going to have to have a few words with her bewildered husband.

~*~

The following morning found an indulgent Admiral looking on, plowing through his breakfast, as Sophy flitted about in excitement. She had only been able to drink her tea and pick at her toast, she was so eager to see her younger brother. She had reproached her husband the previous evening for giving Miss Anne such a shock and extracted a promise from him that he wouldn't bring up the subject of a wife with Frederick. She didn't expect him to keep it but he had good intentions.

To Sophy's delight, Frederick arrived not long after breakfast, clattering into the little house with a great air of determination. Sophy felt as though she had been through a hurricane with the speed that Frederick greeted the Admiral, hugged and kissed her before changing and sweeping out of the house in short order. They didn't see him again until dinner that evening when he appeared looking rather more dejected that when he had left but had refused to say why.

About two days after Frederick's arrival, Sophy was shocked by the sound of the front door slamming and fast footsteps that could only belong to Frederick. It was far too early for Frederick to be back though. Feeling rather concerned, she placed her work aside and moved to the doorway of the room that she had been using. The rain had been bucketing down all day but while Sophy had opted to stay in the comforts of home and do some needlepoint – which she usually loathed -, Frederick had simply borrowed an umbrella and continued with his plans to meet with some acquaintances. Sophy spoke out as Frederick approached, a distinctly stormy look on his face.

“Frederick, is everything well? You're back awfully early.”

“What do you know of a William Walter Elliot, Sophy?”

Frederick's tone became disdainful as he practically spat out the other man's name and Sophy sighed. Catching sight of the maid, she asked for some tea and scones to be brought up and then ushered Frederick into her room.

“What makes you ask about him Frederick?”

“The ladies in our party decided that they wished to go to Molland's so we did and we ran into the Miss Elliot's..”

Unable to stop herself, Sophy broke into his sentence. “Oh, you saw Miss Anne! How did she seem?”

“She was well. We spoke briefly but then the Lady Dalrymple's carriage arrived for the Miss Elliot's..”

“And Miss Elizabeth and Mrs Clay took it leaving Miss Anne?”

Frederick's head shot up quickly. “How did you know that Sophy?”

“Observation. What happened then?”

“She said that she would walk and I had just offered my umbrella and was about to offer to escort her home when that man turned up and whisked her off. As soon as they left all of the women were talking about how a proposal is expected and how Miss Elizabeth wants him but he's interested in Anne. I'm so confused Sophy, tell me everything.”

“I can do that Frederick but, before I do, I need you to be honest with me. What is your history with Miss Anne?”

Sophy didn't think that she had ever seen Frederick's face so ashen or so wary.

“What makes you think that I have a history with Anne, Sophy?”

“Because I have never seen you treat a woman with such disrespect ever. The few times that she actually spoke up when we were at Kellynch or Uppercross you dismissed everything she said or simply ignored her. Then she has an accident and you stay with her rather than the woman everyone believes you are on the verge of proposing to before disappearing. And now that you've finally reappeared, you're demanding information about a man who has shown an interest in her. Frederick, what is going on?”

Sophy watched as Frederick rose to his feet, making for the alcohol in the corner of the room and tossing back a measure of brandy, as though to steel himself.

“Very well, Sophy, I suppose the time has come for you to know everything. Anne and I have a history. We were engaged briefly for a spell in the year six.”

“Engaged? Frederick, why is this the first that I'm hearing of this? Tell me everything!”

“I will but you must try not to interrupt me as I haven't told anyone in a long time.”

Sophy nodded her acquiescence and listened in amazement as Frederick detailed all of his past history with the middle daughter of Sir Walter Elliot. She couldn't believe that all of this had happened and this was the first that she had ever heard about it. She couldn't help but wonder if Edward had known about all of this. After all, he had been the reason that Frederick and Anne had met in the first place.

Sophy listened as her brother detailed how quickly he had fallen in love with Anne and how ecstatic he had been when she accepted his proposal only for it all to come crashing down when she broke their engagement just scant weeks after accepting it. She listened as Frederick described his relationship that Sophy and the Admiral had leased Kellynch and that he would see her again, the childish desire to hurt her as much as she had hurt him. Frederick's voice grew raw and Sophy's heart ached for him as he spoke of the sheer panic when Anne fell and the terror that, despite the surgeons words, Anne wouldn't wake.

Sophy found herself leaning forward in interest as Frederick detailed the conversation he had had with Captain Harville and Sophy couldn't help but be grateful that the Captain and his wife were looking out for her brother. She was certainly going to have to thank the good Captain when he returned that evening for his advice. After all, without it Frederick could have ended up being forced to propose to Louisa Musgrove for proprieties sake.

And then came the revelation that Anne had kept the wooden ship carving that Frederick had given her and had not only kept it but that she had taken it with her to Lyme, hidden away in her trunk. That little snippet of information caught Sophy's attention and set thoughts whirling through her mind. Why had Anne kept the carving if it had been her decision to break the engagement? Keeping an item like that implied that it meant a great deal to Anne and surely she would only keep such a sentimental item (and travel with it no less) if she still felt something for Frederick. It certainly put an interesting twist on the situation with Mr Elliot and Sophy couldn't help but feel amused that it was Anne, considered the plainest of the Elliot sisters, who had two men vying for her affections.

“So, now that Miss Louisa is safely engaged to Captain Benwick you've raced to Bath in order to try and redeem yourself with Miss Anne? Should I take offence at the seemingly little time you want to spend with your only sister?”

Sophy let Frederick squirm for several minutes before quietening him with a pat to the knee. “Hush, I'm just teasing. Although, if you really want to make it up to me, you can ensure that Miss Anne becomes my sister-in-law. She has become a real favourite of ours, no doubt about it.”

Frederick laughed. “Well, I'm glad to have your approval. All I need is a chance to talk to her.”

“Well, hopefully now that she is out and about town it will be easier to see her rather than when Lady Russell was guarding her door. Now, the Admiral and Captain Harville should be back soon so I think that we should go and change.”

Sophy rose and had barely taken a few steps when she felt Frederick's calloused fingers catching at hers.

“Thank you Sophy … for not rebuking me for letting my stupid pride get in the way. I can't believe that it took nearly losing her to make me realise that ...”

Sophy brushed an errant lock of hair out of his eyes as Frederick gathered his thoughts. “Realise what?”

“That I still loved, love her, that I've loved none but her for the last eight years. Even if she no longer loves me in return.”

Sophy smiled and, bending down, placed a motherly kiss on his forehead. “I don't think you need to worry about that. I think, from what you've said, that Miss Anne may well still love you in return. Besides, I for one, can imagine no better wife for you. Have no fear Frederick, I'll make sure that you get to tell your Miss Anne.”


	6. Frederick

To say that Frederick's heart had been in his mouth for the entire duration of the journey from Lyme to Bath was a complete understatement. He was utterly consumed with the the thought of seeing Anne again. The entire time that he had been in Shropshire with Edward, his mind had been hundreds of miles away with her in the little house by the sea. When he had last seen Anne, framed in the window of her bedroom at the Harvilles, he had had to force himself to break their gaze and ride away with a hasty farewell for Harville and Margaret, lest he abandon all pretence and confess everything to her.

The time in Shropshire with nothing but his thoughts to occupy himself but his thoughts while Edward and his wife attended to their duties had opened Frederick's eyes to some stark truths. Not only was he more convinced than ever that the only woman he could ever truly love, the only woman that he had ever loved was Anne Elliot, he realised that he had not only mistreated Louisa Musgrove but he had treated Anne abominably. The sight of his brother happily wed and living in domestic bliss was torturous; if it had not been for Frederick's stupid pride and bruised ego, that could have been himself and Anne. In between letters from Harville updating him on Anne's slowly improving condition, Frederick rode and walked the surrounding countryside mentally castigating himself, beginning and abandoning countless letters to Anne.

He had been at his brothers for several weeks and was starting to lose all hope when he received an unexpected letter from James Benwick. He had known from Harville that Benwick had travelled to Uppercross to provide a bit of stability and familiarity to the Harville children but hadn't known any more than that, not having corresponded with Benwick himself. His surprise had quickly turned to elation once he had started reading the letter and realised that any obstacles to Frederick resolving things – or at least trying to – had been removed. All it had taken was Frederick stepping out of the way to enable Benwick and Louisa to act upon the fact that they had fallen in love.

Feeling the first stirrings of hope, Frederick hurriedly wrote an express to Benwick expressing his delight and giving his blessing for the engagement before throwing his few belongings in his saddlebags and jumping on his horse with nothing more than a hasty farewell tossed in Edward's direction.

The entire way to Lyme his thoughts had been on Anne; how she would look, whether she would be fully recovered, what he would say to her. The anticipation was almost overwhelming. He didn't even consider the possibility that she would no longer be in Lyme. He had barely spared the time to secure his horse before racing inside the Harvilles house, only to find it devoid of any sign of Anne's presence.

“But, where's Anne? I was expecting to still find her here.”

“You must have passed my letter on the road. She's away to Bath Frederick, not three days past. That godmother of hers came and swept her away in a fancy carriage. There was a man with her – that man from the Cobb before Miss Anne fell. Apparently, he's her cousin; a Mr William Walter Elliot.”

Anticipation turned to dread in Frederick's stomach. He remembered the man. How could he not? The man had barely been able to take his eyes off Anne and had made no secret of how appealing he found her. Now Frederick had found out that he was Anne's cousin, something that didn't bode well. Lady Russell undoubtedly approved of him if she had brought him with her to collect Anne and that meant that Lady Russell would be touting him as a future husband of Anne. Not doubt he was deemed far more suitable than Frederick. After all, she hadn't had any problems making her feelings known when she had arrived in Lyme.

  
_***FLASHBACK***_

Frederick didn't know if he was surprised or not when, the day after they sent the expresses that Anne was awake, a large carriage came clattering over the cobbles towards the Harvilles home – the second of the day. Frederick definitely hadn't been surprised that Mrs Mary Musgrove refused the offer of Margaret Harville to stay with them so that she could continue to help look after her sister. Why would she? The woman didn't have a selfless bone in her body and it hadn't surprised Frederick in the slightest when Anne's younger sister hadn't even bothered to see Anne safely transferred to the Harvilles home. Still, he couldn't really complain when the fact that only the Harvilles, Anne and himself resided in the small house meant that he was more likely to be able to keep a close eye on Anne's recovery. At least for the short amount of time before he had to leave Lyme.

Something – he wasn't sure if it was stubborn pride or sheer stupidity – meant that he stayed his ground as Lady Russell descended from her carriage the morning after ? Maybe it was guilt. After all, if he hadn't brought the party from Uppercross to Lyme then Anne would never have fallen, would never be in this state. Logically, he knew that it wasn't his fault, that the weather conditions had changed too quickly, that it could have been any of the ladies who fell but that didn't stop his mental castigation of himself.

Nor did it stop Lady Russell from blaming him for her god-daughter's current state. In her opinion, not only should Anne never have been in Lyme in the first place but a Captain of the Royal Navy should know better than taking a party out in such awful weather. Frederick didn't bother to refute her statements; after all, it wouldn't make any difference. She had never liked him, never thought that he was good enough for her god-daughter and this would simply, in her mind at least, provide the evidence that she had been right all along. He couldn't help but be grateful when Harville spoke up in his defence, aware of just how good a friend he had in the older man, placing a hand on Harvilles sleeve to stay him as Lady Russell continued to malign him. However, he couldn't remain silent when the woman's vitriol turned to the Harvilles and her conviction that the treatment Anne had received was below her status as an Elliot.

"Lady Russell, you may say what you like about me but I will not allow you to abuse Captain and Mrs Harville thus. They have taken Miss Elliot into their home and given her excellent care, having barely known her three days while her own flesh and blood simply left her here. You have no right to complain, no right at all and I must ask that, if you can't be civil to them, then you say nothing at all."

He could see Lady Russell's fury at his words but she didn't retaliate and the three of them sat in cold silence until Margaret appeared with a lunch tray for Anne and informed Lady Russell that she could see her god-daughter briefly. They didn't say anything, just simply exchanged glances that said it all. It wasn't long before they heard footsteps descending the stairs and the woman herself appeared in the doorway.

"It's perfectly clear that, regardless of what I may feel and against my wishes, Anne must remain here although the company is far from desirable. You can be assured that I am only leaving her here upon Anne's own assurance that she will be well looked after. Captain Wentworth, you have been nothing but trouble for my god-daughter. I think it would be best for all concerned if you left her alone from now on, don't you? Captain, as I said to Mrs Harville, I expect to be kept informed of Miss Elliot's condition so that she may be removed to Bath as soon as possible."

Frederick's hands had curled into fists almost as soon as Lady Russell - although he hardly felt that she deserved the honorific - had started speaking but he managed to tamp down his anger until he heard the clatter of hooves on the cobbles drawing away from them. He had been unable to hold back the curse that had sprung to his lips as he had reached for his greatcoat and strode out of the house, seeking solace from the close proximity to the sea.

  
_***END FLASHBACK***_

Frederick had no doubt that, were he to be successful in winning Anne's forgiveness and persuading her to give them a second chance at finding happiness, he was going to have a fight on his hands to stop Lady Russell from interfering for a second time.

  
~*~

Upon his arrival in Bath, Frederick had swept into the house that Sophy and the Admiral had leased, greeting his sister and brother-in-law before changing and rushing back out alone, leaving Harville to recover from the ride from Lyme. By the time that he returned, scarcely with enough time to change before dinner, he was feeling more than a little disheartened. He tried to be sensible, be reasonable about it – after all, it was hardly surprising that after such a serious injury and long convalescence that Anne wasn't walking the streets of Bath – but, even so, he couldn't help but feel disappointed. It felt as though his every attempt to see Anne was being thwarted.

Despite his best efforts to join in with conversations at dinner, it was clear that he was out of sorts and he could feel the glances being shot in his direction. Still, he was grateful that he wasn't questioned and listened instead as the Admiral commented on the number of Naval men currently in the city, mentioning a few mutual acquaintances. Even though Anne was his first priority while in Bath, Frederick resolved to renew several friendships as well, in the hop of retaining his sanity.

In the end, Frederick first saw Anne Elliot three days after his arrival in Bath. Despite the dismal weather, he and several friends had gone ahead with their plans to meet. However, when the rain showed no signs of abating and the ladies of their party started to make their displeasure known, a decision was made to turn into Molland's to take tea and some respite from the weather. The last person he had expected to see when he turned around, doffing his hat as he did so, was Miss Anne Elliot herself.

He was incapable of doing anything but stare for several long minutes, drinking in the sight of her. He couldn't help but frown slightly, for she was still so pale and fragile but this was still superseded by the fact that she was otherwise well and, more importantly, she was smiling slightly. At him. He had to remind himself to keep breathing as she started to approach him, which resulted in him continuing to stare at her like a simpleton.

“Captain Wentworth.”

Strange how much better his title came from Anne's lips than it ever had from Louisa Musgrove's. Trying to redeem his previous behaviour, he gave a short bow, “Miss Elliot” and was rewarded by the faintest hint of a flush dusting her cheeks.

“Your sister mentioned that you were expected in Bath when I saw her several days past.”

“Yes. Harville and I are lodging with her and the Admiral in Gay Street. I fear Sophy is ready to scold me for she has seen little of me these last few weeks.”

He couldn't help the thrill that went through him at the little laugh his words produced. He couldn't believe the effect that this slip of a woman had on him. The way that just the sight of her had him reduced to a tongue-tied schoolboy. He was vaguely aware of the curious looks being sent in their direction by his party but paid them no mind, every facet of his being focused on the woman in front of him. Desperately, he sought for something to say, unwilling for their encounter to come to an end.

“You've perhaps heard that Louisa Musgrove and James Benwick are to marry?”

“Yes, the Admiral informed me. I was … most surprised to hear the news.”

“As was I.” Frederick _had_ to let her know that this news didn't distress him in the slightest. “Yet with all my heart, I wish them well.”

Anything else he may have been about to say was interrupted as the door opened and a voice called out “Lady Dalrymple's carriage for the Miss Elliot's!”

Frederick deflated as he saw two ladies – Miss Elizabeth Elliot and her companion, he presumed – make for the door, only to start as Anne made no move to join them. “You are not going with them?”

“Lady Dalrymple's carriage will only take two more passengers. Besides, I much prefer to walk.”

Casting a glance out of the window – where the rain was still slanting down – Frederick saw, and seized, his opportunity and offered his services, followed by his umbrella – which actually belonged to Sophy – only for Anne's response to be pre-empted by the return of Mr Elliot.

“My dear Anne, I can't say how grieved I am to have kept you waiting. Please, allow me to escort you home.”

As furious as Frederick was by the arrival of the man, not to mention his use of Anne's Christian name, he couldn't help but be pleased that Anne was still lingering, almost as though she did not want to leave. At least, he hoped that she did not want to leave.

“Mr Elliot, permit me to name Captain Wentworth. Captain, my cousin, Mr Elliot.”

Not trusting himself to keep an even tone if he spoke, Frederick simply nodded at the other man, feeling himself being sized up. This, this man, was his main rival for Anne's affections. He knew that, even were Anne to not feel a jot for Mr Elliot, her family would undoubtedly bechampioning him. He couldn't help but tense as Mr Elliot took Anne's hand on his arm and started to lead her towards the door, only for Anne to pause once more and turn towards him.

“Captain, there is a concert at the Pump Rooms tomorrow evening. I remember how fond you are of music...”

And then she was gone.

Frederick watched until Anne disappeared out of sight and then rejoined his party, although he was unable to stay once he heard the subject of conversation. The women spoke as though Anne's engagement to Mr Elliot was a certainty; that he was a daily visitor to Camden Place and had quickly set his sights on Miss Anne Elliot, although Miss Elizabeth had designs on him herself. As soon as Frederick thought he could, he headed straight for home, not bothering to put up his umbrella even though the rain still poured down.

With his quick pace, it didn't take him long to reach Gay Street, letting the door slam shut behind him as he entered the house. That, of course, drew his sisters attention and, after demanding information of her, he allowed Sophy to draw him into the room that she had claimed as her own. He explained what had happened that afternoon, unsurprised by his sisters observations; Sophy always had had a keen eye. However, he wasn't prepared to be questioned himself instead of Sophy giving him an explanation for what he had overheard.

“What is your history with Miss Anne?”

Frederick could feel the blood drain from his face at Sophy's question. Sophy had never bothered to dance around a subject, always cutting straight to the chase and it was just one of the many reasons that she made such a wonderful Naval wife. Taking a deep breath he spoke, hoping that his voice would not betray him.

“What makes you think that I have a history with Anne, Sophy?”

He couldn't help but hang his head as Sophy berated him for his behaviour towards Anne. Behaviour that he was more than aware was truly deplorable. Oh how he regretted it now. How could he have mistreated Anne so? How had not been able to realise just how much she meant to him, how much he loved her still? Rising from his seat, he headed straight for the tray of alcohol in the corner of the room, pouring himself a brandy and tossing it back in an attempt to steel himself. He knew that he was going to have to be truly honest with Sophy and, if he was honest, he wasn't sure that that was possible without a little bit of liquid courage.

“As I said, you are correct in that Anne and I have a history and yes, we were briefly engaged in the year six. As for why you never knew about it, quite simply, I have never spoken about to anyone except to Harville and even Harville only dragged it out of me with liberal amounts of alcohol.

As for what happened, well. It was when you were in the East Indies with the Admiral. I was on shore leave at the time – it was just as I was given the Asp but she needed serious repairs so we were all given a decent furlough of time before we had to report back to Spithead – so I went to stay with Edward in Somerset where he had the living at Monkford. It took Anne and I a while to become acquainted – I would see her around fairly frequently but Edward eventually introduced us. Once he had, well, how could I not fall in love with her? She was beautiful, kind, intelligent. She was so different from the rest of her family; none of their disdain, their pride or their snobbishness. We spent hours just walking the countryside and talking. We even attended a village fair in Monkford that held a dance on the green in the evening! I was completely head over heels in love with her and I believed that the feelings were reciprocated. I proposed to Anne and she accepted. That's where it all fell apart.

I visited her father to ask for his permission to marry Anne – she must have only been nineteen at the time – and it was a disaster. He didn't even bother to give me an answer. Not that that was surprising; he never thought I was good enough for one of his daughters. After all, I was just a common sailor with no money and no title. Still, we loved each other and we were determined to marry. And then Lady Russell arrived from Bath. Barely three days after her arrival, Anne had broken our engagement claiming that it was the best thing for both of us and I left for Spithead.

I was resentful and angry when we returned to ship. I lashed out at anyone and everyone, regardless of who they were. It didn't take long for everyone to sicken of my behaviour and Harville was tasked with the job of sitting me down and working out what the problem was. Which he did and over the better part of a bottle of brandy, I might add! At that time, I think I can only say that I hated Anne for breaking our engagement but, in time, hate faded to resentment and, while I like to think that I dealt with everything, I just buried it all. Looking back, it was more bruised ego and hurt pride than anything else. When you invited me to Somerset, I childishly decided to try and hurt Anne as much as she had hurt me. The moment I saw her. My god! She was so changed from the little one that I had fallen in love with. Still, I deliberately paid attention to Louisa Musgrove in an attempt to make Anne jealous, needing to soothe my hurt pride and stoke my lingering resentment.

All of that disappeared the second that Anne fell from the Cobb. I have steered a ship through a maelstrom and faced down enemy ships even though we have been both out-manned and out-gunned. Nothing has ever terrified me as much as seeing Anne lying still on the cobbles. I was frozen, I couldn't think sensibly. All I could think of was how much I loved her and how beastly I had been to her. What if she died? What would I do? Thank god for Benwick. He kept his head and took charge of the situation, running to fetch the surgeon. And then Margaret Harville took over. Thank god for the Harvilles is all I can say. Margaret took such excellent care of Anne, opening up their house to her without question or even thinking about it. Then Harville talking sense into me and opening my eyes to my behaviour, advising me to go to Edward rather than returning to you at Kellynch. Something that turned out perfectly in the end.

I tell you Sophy, I have long thought of Anne as being the best of the Elliot's and that was confirmed in Lyme. After Anne's fall, her sister barely bothered to see her, leaving all of her care to Margaret. She didn't even both to stay once Anne regained consciousness; instead, she was away back to Uppercross as soon as she could. How Anne has turned out to be as kind and gentle as she has is a miracle, I tell you, and that family of hers don't deserve her. Lady Russell made an appearance but that was less to do with Anne's welfare than it was to proclaim that it was beneath Anne as an Elliot to be convalescing in a cottage by the sea. And, of course, the fall was all my fault.”

Frederick smiled ruefully. “And in that, I cannot disagree with her because I can't help but feel that it was my fault. Anne was only in Lyme because of me. None of them would have been in Lyme if it were not for me wanting to visit Harville. And that morning on the Cobb … I'm an experienced Naval Captain. I should have seen the way that the weather was deteriorating and made us turn back sooner. Still, she is alive. That is the most important thing. She is alive and I have a chance to try and make all of this right. Margaret Harville found something in Anne's trunk that gives me hope.

When Anne accepted my proposal, I didn't have a ring to give her. Instead, I gave her a small ship carved out of wood. It wasn't anything too special. I had made it when I was a mid and carried it with me ever since. When I asked Anne to marry me and she said yes, I gave her the ship and she promised to look after and take good care of it. When Margaret unpacked Anne's trunk, she found it. When I left Lyme, I left it on her bedside table and everything after that you already know.”

Frederick sank back into his chair, somewhat exhausted by the emotional re-telling, simply waiting for his sisters verdict.

“So, now that Miss Louisa is safely engaged to Captain Benwick you've raced to Bath in order to try and redeem yourself with Miss Anne? Should I take offence at the seemingly little time you want to spend with your only sister?”

Frederick couldn't help but squirm in his seat for several minutes at Sophy's words before she stilled him with a pat to the knee. putting him out of his misery with the proclamation that Anne Elliot was already a firm favourite of both his sister and his brother-in-law.

Frederick laughed, more than grateful that Anne was already so beloved by his sister. What more could he hope for from the two women that he loved best. “Well, I'm glad to have your approval. All I need is a chance to talk to her.”

Sophy rose and Frederick only allowed her to get a few steps before he caught her fingers with his own. “Thank you Sophy … for not rebuking me for letting my stupid pride get in the way. I can't believe that it took nearly losing her to make me realise that ...”

He was grateful when Sophy allowed him the time to catch his thoughts, closing his eyes at the familiar feeling of Sophy's fingers combing through his hair, the sensation sending him straight back to childhood. “Realise what?”

“That I still loved, love her, that I've loved none but her for the last eight years. Even if she no longer loves me in return.”

He couldn't help the overwhelming feeling of relief that swept over him as Sophy promised that she would ensure he got to speak to Anne. He knew that Sophy would fight his corner and would do her utmost to help Frederick in any way that he could. It was only as Sophy left the room that he had forgotten to tell her that they would all be attending a concert at the Pump Rooms the following evening.

  
~*~

The minute that he set foot in the Pump Rooms the following evening, Frederick was scanning the room for Anne. He had taken special care with his appearance, wanting to ensure that he looked his best, much to the amusement of Harville. He couldn't help but wish that he was able to wear his uniform, knowing that it suited him very well indeed and would have given his confidence a much needed boost but he was not permitted to under Naval rules as he was currently without a ship. Still, uniform or no uniform, he had no intention of not seeing Anne and had instead selected the best clothes that he had with him, cajoling Sophy's maid to make them look presentable. Harville had declined to join them for the evening, instead choosing to socialise with some officers he had served with prior to knowing Frederick but Sophy and the Admiral had joined Frederick for moral support. Not that he had paid them a jot of notice since they had entered; he was too busy searching the veritable sea of colour in front of him for signs of Anne.

When he finally saw her, it was because she had spotted him first and had started to tentatively make her way through the crowd towards him. He couldn't help but feel buoyed that, for the second time in two days, it was she who was approaching him. And then, she was in front of him and, yet again, he was reduced to the same mawkish behaviour as their encounter in Molland's the previous day. There may be more beautiful women present and women in far fancier dresses but, to Frederick, Anne Elliot was the only woman in the room that mattered. The pale blue dress that she wore wasn't overly embellished but both looked beautiful on her and showed off her dainty figure to perfection. She was still a little too pale for his liking but that made her no less beautiful in his eyes.

Even more becoming than her figure in the dress was the blush that brought colour to her cheeks as she noticed him staring at her, his gaze only breaking as he bowed in response to her curtsey. He forced himself to focus as he realised that her lips were moving but he hadn't heard what she had said. Luckily, he didn't seem to have missed much.

“Captain Wentworth? Is the programme to your liking?”

Anne's melodious voice was so soft that he had to strain to hear it above the sounds of the orchestra tuning in the next room not to mention the chattering crowds.

“I find myself at liberty this evening.” The instant that the words left his mouth Frederick regretted them, knowing that they were far too stiff. “You were quite right yesterday when you remembered that I was fond of music.” Frederick relaxed at the small smile that curved her lips.

“Bath has much to offer those who are interested in music.”

“So I am led to believe.” It was hardly scintillating conversation but Frederick didn't care. _Anne was talking to him!_ He could feel the gaze of her family on them but paid them no attention. They might not approve of him but clearly Anne didn't care for _she_ had approached _him_.

“And shall you be staying long in Bath?”

Was Frederick mistaken? Was that a glimmer of hope in Anne's eyes as they darted up to meet his?

“I don't know. That is to say I am not certain. It all depends....” _It all depends on whether you agree to give me a second chance_ was what Frederick desperately wanted to say however he knew that he couldn't, not here.

“I see.”

Frederick wanted to scream out that no, he didn't think that Anne did see. He couldn't help but hate the formality of the situation, the formality that meant that they were surrounded by not only their families but also numerous strangers that prevented him from saying what he truly wanted to say.

“Miss Elliot...”

Frederick had to fight to bite back the curse that sprang to his lips as Lady Dalrymple and her daughter Carteret entered the room, that bloody William Elliot trailing in their wake, Anne's family surging forward to greet them. Frederick could only stand in bewilderment as Anne was swept along with them into the main concert hall on the arm of her cousin although she did keep turning her head to stare at him. When he had quite lost sight of her in the crowd, Frederick felt a slight touch to his elbow and turned to see Sophy and the Admiral stood by his side. Ignoring his sisters sympathetic smile, Frederick allowed them to lead him into the concert hall and their seats at the back of the room, leaving him with a perfect view of Anne in the front row.

Frederick couldn't care less about the crowds around him – the fashionable people of Bath wanting to be seen, rather than pay attention to the music itself – his eyes were simply glued to the couple on the front row. Despite the looks that were being sent his way by Elizabeth Elliot, William Elliot only had eyes for Anne and was constantly leaning in and whispering to her. All around him, Frederick was aware of the whispers about the two of them and how, surely, an engagement announcement would soon be forthcoming.

Who was he kidding? How could he even think that he still had a chance with Miss Anne Elliot? Not even caring that the orchestra had started, he stood from his seat and walked out, determined to return to Gay Street immediately. He was halfway to the doors when he heard running footsteps behind him and turned to see a rather breathless Anne heading straight for him.

“Captain! Captain, are you going?”

“Yes.” He fought the urge to step forward and retract his words when Anne's face fell.

“Is the first half at least not worth staying for?”

Over Anne's shoulder, he could see Mr Elliot heading towards them, no doubt to retrieve Anne and his resolve hardened.

“No. There's nothing here worth staying for. Goodnight.”

  
~*~

Frederick couldn't help but brighten when the next person who walked through the door of the upstairs room of the White Hart Inn was the very person who he wanted to see. He had received quite the lecture from Sophy after he had walked out of the concert at the Pump Rooms, not to mention a reminder that, if he behaved as he had thus far, he was hardly going to endear himself to Anne. He knew that, of course, and couldn't help but wonder if he was doomed to always act like an idiot in front of her. Still, he reasoned as he watched Anne be drawn into the conversation between his sister and Mrs Musgrove, he was hardly going to get the opportunity to talk to her here. Clapping Harville on the shoulder, Frederick murmured that he was going to write the letter Harville wanted him to do and moved across to the desk, pulling the necessary writing implements towards him.

He was maybe halfway through his task when he realised that Harville was now stood by the window and that he had been joined by Anne. He wasn't particularly close to them but if he strained, he could just about make out what they were saying. He couldn't help but sympathise with Harville as he saw his friend show Anne the miniature of Benwick. He knew that while Harville was happy for their friend and had indeed been the one to send Benwick to Uppercross, Harville couldn't help but think of his sister and what should have been. He couldn't help but think of his sister and what should have been. He couldn't hear everything they said but he heard snatches of their conversation, enough to follow it at least. As Anne's voice rose slightly, his letter lay abandoned, ink drops marring the page as he shamelessly eavesdropped.

“No, no, it is not man's nature. I will not allow it to be more man's nature than woman's to be inconstant and forget those that they do love, or have loved.”

At these words, Frederick's pen dropped to the desk with a clatter, drawing the attention of both Anne and Harville. Frederick waved them off, stating that he would just be a few more minutes, hoping desperately that they would resume their conversation. He was in luck. He listened with interest to Harvilles words but it was Anne's response that seized his heart.

“All the privilege I claim for my own sex – it is not a very enviable one, you need not covet it – is that of loving longest, when existence or when hope is gone.”

Not for the first time, he couldn't believe his luck in having a friend like Harry Harville. Who else would have brought the conversation round to something like this? Hope surged within him. Maybe Anne keeping his little wooden carving had meant what he had hoped it had. Maybe everybody was right, maybe Anne did still love him just as he did her. As terrifying as the prospect might be, he couldn't stand to not do anything. He had to fight for Anne, fight for the right to call her his. He had no intention of losing her for a second time, particularly not to a cad like William Elliot. He had to declare himself.

Drawing a clean sheet of paper towards him, he dipped his pen in the inkwell and started to write.


	7. Anne

By the time that they stopped at Molland's for afternoon tea and to take shelter from the rain, Anne was regretting her decision to join Elizabeth and Mrs Clay for the afternoon. Particularly as Mr Elliot had insisted on joining them. However, Lady Russell had been keeping a very close eye on Anne since the trip to the Pump Rooms when she had discovered that Captain Wentworth was expected in Bath and this had been the first opportunity Anne had had to get out of the house. She had been increasingly more uncomfortable with all of the attention paid to her by Mr Elliot but Elizabeth and Mrs Clay simply kept encouraging his presence. -The man had completely and utterly ingratiated himself into the household at Camden Place. What was worse, Anne knew that Lady Russell had big plans for Anne and Mr Elliot. Her godmother had never made a secret of the fact that, in her opinion, it should be Anne who was the next mistress of Kellynch as opposed to Elizabeth and she would do everything that she could to ensure that happened. Even if that meant pushing Anne into something she didn't want.

With Mr Elliot away securing Lady Dalrymple's carriage for Elizabeth to use and having no interest in taking part in the barbed gossip of Elizabeth and her companion, Anne stood and slowly wandered the shop browsing the merchandise. She had just neared the door when a large party entered, the majority of the ladies and gentlemen moving towards the free seats while one man lingered by the door, removing his hat as he ensured that the door was properly closed. Anne froze as her gaze fell on the familiar form of Captain Frederick Wentworth.

He was here.

Not only was he in Bath but he was in the same shop as she. Anne resisted the urge to flee, determinedly standing her ground even though her limbs trembled. As he turned, he saw her and their gazes locked. Hoping to encourage him, Anne sent a soft smile in his direction but still he simply stood and stared so, even though her heart was in her mouth, she started to move towards him.

“Captain Wentworth.”

“Miss Elliot.”

Anne couldn't help the flush that suffused her cheeks at her name on his lips and hoped that he missed her reaction as he bowed. Gathering up all of her courage, and taking heart from the fact that Frederick was making absolutely no attempt to move away from her, Anne forged ahead in an attempt at conversation.

“Your sister mentioned that you were expected in Bath when I saw her several days past.”

“Yes. Harville and I are lodging with her and the Admiral in Gay Street. I fear Sophy is ready to scold me, for she has seen little of me these last few weeks.”

Anne couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her at Frederick's words. She had no doubt that Sophy would indeed take him to task considering the lack of time that he had spent with her. She had to admit that she was slightly envious of the relationship shared between the two siblings. They seemed so close. And from what Anne could remember, Frederick had shared the same close relationship with his brother as well. They were nothing like Anne and her sisters, who had never been particularly close, although Anne had always felt more affinity with Mary than she had ever had with Elizabeth.

“You've perhaps heard that Louisa Musgrove and James Benwick are to marry?”

Anne couldn't help but be surprised that he had brought up the subject of Louisa so quickly but, in a way, was grateful for it. This way, they could discuss it and then they didn't need to speak of it again. “Yes, the Admiral informed me. I was … most surprised to hear the news.”

Surprised was an understatement. Indeed, Lady Russell had been so afraid that Anne would faint when the Admiral gave her the news that she had rushed Anne away from the Croft's and back home immediately. However, once she had returned home and given herself time to think about the news, surprise had given way to hope and delight. Delight that Frederick was once again unattached and hope that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for them. She turned her attention back to Frederick as he spoke.

“As was I. Yet with all my heart, I wish them well.”

Glancing up at Frederick's face, Anne could see the sincerity written there and knew that he was telling the truth. Frederick was truly happy that Louisa would be marrying Captain Benwick and not himself. Before either of them could say anything further, the door opened behind them and a voice called out loudly.

“Lady Dalrymple's carriage for the Miss Elliot's.”

Anne resolutely held her ground as Elizabeth and Mrs Clay swept through Molland's and out to the waiting coach, drawing as much attention to themselves as possible and, in doing so, she was rewarded with a small pleased smile.

“You are not going with them?”

Anne shook her head. “Lady Dalrymple's carriage will only take two more passengers. Besides, I much prefer to walk.”

To Anne's delight, Frederick seized the moment offered by her words and suggested that he escort her home to Camden Place, only for the opportunity to be dashed as the door opened once more to reveal Mr Elliot who wasted no time in making his way to Anne's side.

“My dear Anne, I can't say how grieved I am to have kept you waiting. Please, allow me to escort you home.”

Anne had never been more unhappy to see Mr Elliot. Why could he not have taken just a little bit longer? She had had the opportunity to be escorted home by Frederick and now it had been ruined. There was nothing that she could do except go with her cousin but, wanting to linger and spend a little more time in Frederick's presence, she introduced the two men.

“Mr Elliot, permit me to name Captain Wentworth. Captain, my cousin, Mr Elliot.”

The two men bowed to each other and, as they did so, Anne couldn't help but be aware of the tension between the two of them, more than a little curious as to what might be the cause. Knowing that she had mere minutes before Mr Elliot ushered her out of Molland's, Anne seized upon the first thing she thought of that would hopefully give her an opportunity to see Frederick again.

“Captain, there is a concert at the Pump Rooms tomorrow evening. I remember how fond you are of music...”

She didn't have time to say more as Mr Elliot practically towed her out of the door, even though she desperately wanted to stay. All she could do was hope that Frederick would come to the concert, that she would get the opportunity to see him again.

~*~

The following evening found Anne once more lamenting the pitiable state of her wardrobe. Nothing that she owned seemed suitable. All of them were too old or too worn and none of them showed her to her satisfaction. Several times since she had arrived in Bath, Lady Russell had suggested that they visit the modistes and purchase some new gowns but, aware that her father and Elizabeth hadn't given up their extravagant ways, Anne had refused. Now, she was utterly regretting her decision. In the end, she had to settle for a pale blue gown that was devoid of any embellishment save for a few ribbons and tumbles of lace and a pair of delicate earrings that had once belonged to her mother. She wasn't wholly satisfied but it would have to do.

By the time that they arrived at the Pump Rooms (suitably late enough for them to make an entrance and be noticed), the building was thronged with people, flashed of colour everywhere. Anne hovered on the edge of her party, occasionally making non-committal noises to appear as though she was listening, but in reality, every bit of her focus was on scanning the room for Frederick. She knew that there was every chance that he might not come but she couldn't help but hope.

Just as Anne was about to give up hope that Frederick was going to turn up he was suddenly stood in front of her, having appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Tentatively and once more gathering all of her courage, she started to make her way over towards him. Once she was close enough to converse, she called his name and curtsied, only to garner no response. She knew that he had heard her – he could not have failed to, despite the background noise around them – but he simply stared at her instead of responding.

“Captain Wentworth?” She spoke again, this time receiving a bow in response. “Is the programme to your liking?”

“I find myself at liberty this evening. You were quite right yesterday when you remembered that I was fond of music.”

Anne gave a small smile at that. If only he knew that she had jealously hoarded every single scrap of information about him that she could remember. “Bath has much to offer those who are interested in music.”

“So I am led to believe.”

Anne fumbled for something more interesting to say, desperate to keep Frederick's attention. At the same time, she was conscious that her family were watching the two of them with interest and, undoubtedly, more than a little unhappiness. Finally, she decided to simply ask the question that she most desire an answer to.

“And shall you be staying long in Bath?”

“I don't know. That is to say I am not certain. It all depends...”

“I see.” Anne didn't see. What did it depend upon? Her? Whether Frederick received another commission? She desperately wanted to ask but how could she?

“Miss Elliot...”

Anything that Frederick was about to say was lost amidst the arrival of Lady Dalrymple and Carteret, Anne's father and sister springing forward to greet their cousins. Anne had to fight to hold back the heavy sigh when she saw Mr Elliot trailing in their work. All she could do was look back at Frederick as Mr Elliot took her arm and escorted her into the concert hall in the wake of her family. Unable to make a fuss, Anne could do nothing but be shepherded and, as such, found herself stuck beside Mr Elliot at the end of the front row.

The orchestra had barely started tuning when Anne became aware of a disturbance towards the back of the concert hall behind her. Turning, Anne saw Frederick storming out of the room. Not even pausing to think about what people might say, Anne abandoned her programme, gathered her skirts and ran after him. He was almost at the doors out on to the street by the time she caught up with him.

“Captain! Captain, are you going?” Anne struggled to remain upright, this being the most that she had exerted herself since her recovery.

“Yes.”

Anne's heart sank. He was leaving. This was far from how she had envisaged the evening. It had seemed to be going so well when he had arrived for the evening, how could it now be going so wrong? In desperation, she tried to plead with him. “Is the first half at least not worth staying for?”

She had hope that she saw a slight softening of his stance but then his eyes focused on something behind him and she could see the resolution cross his face. A quick glance behind her showed that Mr Elliot had followed her from the concert hall and was fast approaching them. Paying him no heed, she turned her attention back to Frederick just in time to catch his words.

“No. There's nothing here worth staying for. Goodnight.”

Anne could only watch as Frederick stormed out of the Pump Rooms. Feeling completely and utterly deflated, she could do nothing except for allow Mr Elliot to escort her back into the concert, trying to do her utmost to ignore the whispers that followed them. Even though she was on the front row, she did not hear a single note that the orchestra played for the rest of the evening. Every single one of her thoughts was focused on Frederick and the manner of his departure. Everything had seemed to be going so well. They had conversed and it had not gone horribly but then, all of a sudden, he was storming out of the Pump Rooms and insisting that there was nothing for him to stay for. What reason could he have for leaving? The only possible reason that Anne could think of, given the unhappy looks that he had given Mr Elliot, was that Frederick was jealous but that couldn't be it. Could it?

~*~

The day after the concert, Anne made her way to Westgate Buildings where an old friend from school now lived. Mrs Smith, Miss Hamilton as was, had shown a young Anne much kindness at a time when it was greatly needed and, even though she had been three years older, had been a much needed friend to Anne when she had felt abandoned at school. Anne had never forgotten that kindness and, upon her arrival in Bath, had renewed the acquaintance as soon as she possibly could. She had doubled her efforts upon discovering that not only had Mrs Smith been left destitute following the death of her husband but was left weakened and in need of nursing having been struck down with severe rheumatic fever. Of course, the fact that the visit ensured that Anne would be away from Camden Place at the precise moment of Mr Elliot's usual visit was an added bonus.

Despite their meeting being pre-arranged, Anne was received with delight and had barely accepted her cup of tea before she was already being begged for an account of the concert. Anne was more than happy to relay her recollections and eagerly divulged who had been in attendance and who had worn what to the best of her ability. It did not take long for Anne to exhaust her memory, nor for her to realise just how much of her evening had been preoccupied with Frederick. It didn't take long for Mrs Smith to realise this and tease Anne a little with the knowledge.

“You need not tell me that you had a pleasant evening. I see it in your eye. Your countenance perfectly informs me that you were in company last night with the person, whom you think the most agreeable in the world, the person who interests you at this present time, more than all the rest of the world put together.”

Anne couldn't help but blush hotly, unable to say anything. How could Mrs Smith have known that? How could she possibly know about Frederick? Anne was thus bewildered when the next thing Mrs Smith said, to Anne at least, seemed to change subject completely and utterly.

“Pray, is Mr Elliot aware of your acquaintance with me? Does he know that I am in Bath?”

“Mr Elliot? I was not aware that you knew Mr Elliot!”

“I have been a good deal acquainted with him but it seems worn out now. It is a great while since we met. I had hoped that you would talk about me to Mr Elliot. He can be of essential service to me; and if you would have the goodness...”

“I should be extremely happy but I suspect you are considering me as having a higher claim on Mr Elliot than is really the case.”

“I have perhaps been a little premature. I ought to have waited for official information but do give me a hint as to when I may speak...”

“I can assure you that nothing of the sort you are thinking of will be settled at any point. I am not going to marry Mr Elliot. Not now and not ever. It is not Mr Elliot that...”

“My dear Anne, you know not how much that news delights me. I think you ought to be acquainted with Mr Elliot's true character. Therefore, hear the truth now...”

Anne listened with growing horror, her tea abandoned and forgotten, to the whole sorry history of Mrs Smith's acquaintance with Mr Elliot. She could not believe that the man had been so callous and cruel. Nor that he had never mentioned knowing the Smith's when Anne had brought up her friend in conversation several times over the last few days. Even though she had never been interested in marrying the man, this certainly brought him down significantly in her estimations. Her disgust at the man's behaviour only increased as Mrs Smith's tale progressed.

By the end of Mrs Smith's tale, Anne was left reeling. So much that she had not known, so much to shock her. There was too much for her to truly take it all in. Her farewell to Mrs Smith may have been a little too cursory but Anne was not wholly cognisant of that as she made her departure, promising to return another day. Anne left Westgate Buildings in a state of bewilderment with the knowledge that she had much to think over and make sense of.

~*~

The last people that Anne expected to see when she entered the parlour of the White Hart Inn were Captains Harville and Wentworth and Mrs Croft. Given the way that Frederick had raced out of the Pump Rooms, as though the very hounds of hell were at his heels, she had wondered if she would see him again. Almost immediately, she was drawn into conversation with Mrs Musgrove and Mrs Croft, the former informing Anne that Louisa, Henrietta and Mary had gone shopping but that she had been instructed to keep Anne occupied until they returned.

Anne listened with half an ear to the conversation between the two women but, in reality, her attention was elsewhere in the room. Before too long, she realised that both Frederick and Captain Harville had moved positions and that the latter was indicating for her to join him. Knowing that she wouldn't be missed by either Mrs Musgrove or Mrs Croft, Anne made her way over to him, smiling softly as she did so. She couldn't help but feel sympathetic towards him as he showed her the picture of Captain Benwick, explaining that it had been done on the Cape for Phoebe and the task that Frederick was undertaking for him.

“My poor Fanny! She would not have forgotten Benwick as easily as he seems to have forgotten her. It was not within her nature; she doted upon him.”

“No, that I can believe.” And believe it Anne did, to the very depths of her soul. “Then again, I do not believe that it would be the nature of any woman who truly loved.”

“Do you claim that for your sex?”

“But of course!” Anne could tell from the small smile on Captain Harville's face that he was truly interested in what she had to say. As such, she did not object to expounding her thoughts. “We certainly do not forget you, so soon as you forget us. It is, perhaps, our fate rather than our merit. We live at home, quiet and confined while you men have things to take you back into the world immediately. You are forced on exertion.”

“That may be true for most men but not for Benwick. Or, do you forget that he was confined to shore by the peace almost as soon as he heard the news of Phoebe and he has lived with us ever since.”

“I had forgotten but you speak the truth. In that case, I am afraid that it must be nature, man's nature, which has done the business for Captain Benwick.”

“No, no, it is not man's nature. I will not allow it to be more man's nature than woman's to be inconstant and forget those they do love, or have loved.”

Anne jumped as did Captain Harville, startled by the clatter of something behind them, and both she and the Captain turned to see Frederick picking up his pen and reassuring them that nothing was the matter, that he had simply fumbled. He informed her companion that he would be just a few minutes more, to which Harville chuckled and responded that he was more than happy with Anne's company and conversation. Anne couldn't help but wonder if that was the entire truth but allowed herself to be drawn back into conversation, trying desperately to ignore Frederick.

“I fear we shall never agree upon this point, Miss Anne. But, let me remind you that all of history is against you, all stories, prose and verse. But, perhaps you will say that these were all written by men?”

“Perhaps I shall. After all, men have had every advantage of us in telling their own story. I feel that maybe, we can never expect to prove anything upon such a point. All the privilege I claim for my own sex – it is not a very enviable one, you need not covet it – is that of loving longest, when existence or when hope is gone.”

Anne was somewhat breathless by the time that she finished speaking, so passionate had she been, and was the recipient of a somewhat sympathetic smile from Captain Harville, who placed his hand gently on her arm.

“You are a good soul, Miss Anne. There is to be no quarrelling with you.”

They were interrupted by Mrs Croft, saying that she had errands to run but that she and her husband would be in attendance at Camden Place that evening for the card party Elizabeth had organised. Once Mrs Croft announced her departure, it didn't take long for the men to say that they would be joining her. Anne watched as Frederick hurriedly folded a sheet of paper and placed it in an envelop before writing a direction on the front. Minutes later, they were leaving – Captain Harville with a short bow and a courteous “good morning” while Frederick left without a word. Refusing to let her disappointment show, Anne was just about to rejoin Mrs Musgrove by the fire when they heard hurried footsteps on the stairs and the door opened to reveal Frederick again.

He muttered something about having left his gloves and crossed back over to the desk. There, he made a show of moving around various papers. When he saw Anne watching him, he made of show of ensuring that Anne saw the envelope addressed to her, slightly hidden under some of the other papers. At her nod, he snatched up his gloves and was gone almost as quickly as he had arrived.

Her heart thundering in her chest, Anne made her way over to the desk that Frederick had been using and, sitting down at it, picked up the envelope he had indicated with shaking fingers. Taking a deep breath, she opened the envelope, withdrew the single sheet of paper within and started devouring the words written there.

_I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me that I am not too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own, than when you almost broke it eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these few days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice, when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating in_

_F.W._

_I must go, uncertain of my fate;but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look will be enough to decide whether I enter your father's house this evening, or never._

Anne felt as though she couldn't breathe. She couldn't believe the words on the page. She read it through a second time and then a third as she tried to convince herself. _You pierce my soul._ Tears sprang to Anne's eyes and she pressed a trembling hand to her mouth, afraid to make a sound and draw attention to herself. Not that she had need to worry as, at that precise moment, an exultant Charles clattered through the door drawing all eyes to him.

_I have loved none but you._ He loved her. Captain Frederick Wentworth loved  _her,_ Anne Elliot. If his words were to be believed, he always had.  _You alone have brought me to Bath._ Anne's heart soared. She had hoped that she had played some small part in Frederick's arrival in Bath but to be the sole reason? It was more than she had dared dream of. He wasn't lost to her. She couldn't stay here, she had to find some way of letting him know her feelings. Standing abruptly, Anne felt herself sway rather alarmingly and Charles was at her side, holding her arm tightly.

“Anne? Are you quite well?”

Charles' question drew the attention of the rest of the room and Anne couldn't help but flush. “I'm actually feeling a little under the weather. I think it might be best if I returned home and rested before this evening.”

Almost before Anne could blink, Mrs Musgrove had taken charge and told Charles to escort Anne home, reassuring her that the girls would quite understand and that they would see her that evening. The chill of the air outside restored Anne's senses somewhat but she was still lost in her thoughts, completely oblivious to what Charles was saying until they came to a halt. Only when she looked up and saw the fact of the man who occupied her thoughts, did she listen to what Charles was saying.

“Captain Wentworth! I say, which way are you going Frederick? I wonder if I can ask you to take my place and escort Anne home? She is rather done for this morning and I have to see a fellow in the market-place about a capital gun. It's a good deal like that second-sized double-barrel of mine, that one you shot with round Winthrop.”

Anne found her head spinning as her hand was transferred to Frederick's arm and Charles disappeared in the opposite direction, whistling cheerfully. Silence reigned between them as Frederick led them, not in the direction of Camden Place but instead down a secluded gravel walkway, where he sat them both down at the first bench they came across and gathered Anne's hands in his own.

“Anne, my darling Anne. You read my letter?”

Anne nodded, feeling barely able to breathe, let alone speak. Her every hope and wish was coming true.

“I meant every word, little one. I have loved none but you for the last eight and a half years. There could never be anyone but you. You alone are the reason that I came to Bath, hoping desperately that I still may have a chance, that you weren't lost to me forever. Please, put me out of my misery. Eight and a half years ago, you made me the happiest man alive when you agreed to be my wife. I would that you do so again.”

Anne felt happy tears spring to her eyes as she nodded. “Yes.”

“Yes? You accept?”

Anne couldn't help the delighted laughter that bubbled up seeing the look of amazed disbelief on Frederick's face. “Yes, Frederick Wentworth, I accept your proposal.”

Frederick made no attempt to disguise the naked hope on his face. “You are … are you quite certain?”

“I am. I will marry you and nothing, you can be sure, will persuade me otherwise.”

A blinding smile spread across Frederick's face as he heard the passion in Anne's voice, the realisation that she had accepted his proposal and Anne couldn't help the smile that spread across her lips in response. And then Frederick was leaning in and Anne knew that he was going to kiss her. She didn't care that they were in a public place, that anyone could walk past and see them. All that she could think was that she had waited eight and a half years for this and, public place or not, she had no intention of stopping Frederick.

It was as though everything was moving in slow motion. It seemed to take forever before Frederick's lips were on hers but they were and Anne felt as though she was drowning in sensations. All of her senses were completely overwhelmed. The scent of Frederick's cologne, the heat radiating from his body, the feeling of his lips on hers. Anne couldn't help the few tears that escaped and slid down her cheeks, even as she smiled tremulously. Frederick didn't say anything. He simply wiped away the tears with a gloved hand before cupping her cheek and bringing her in for another kiss. This was more passionate than the last, Frederick's free hand moving to the small of Anne's back and encouraging her forward so that she was practically nestled against Frederick's chest. Not that Anne was at all reticent. Indeed, she even surprised herself with her response; wrapping her arms around Frederick's neck and all but melting into him. Anne wasn't entirely sure how long they sat there sharing happy glances and kisses but it was well past lunch when Frederick finally delivered her back to Camden Place with one last stolen kiss and a promise to see her that evening.

(~*~)

Anne felt as though she were floating on air for the rest of the afternoon and both her father and Elizabeth commented upon her unusual happiness but Anne refused to be drawn as to the reason behind her good mood. Instead, she had shut herself away in her room and taken especial care dressing for the evening.

After her dissatisfaction with her wardrobe on the evening of the concert, Anne had succumbed and allowed her godmother to take her to the modistes. The end result was a deep rose-pink sarcenet gown that Anne had fallen in love with. Much like the blue gown she had worn, it wasn't overly embellished but, importantly, it was new and Anne knew that it became her very well. Adorned with dainty pearl pins in her hair and delicate pearl earrings that had belonged to her mother and with a happy flush on her cheeks, Anne looked quite transformed when she observed her reflection in the mirror.

The change didn't go unnoticed by each guest that arrived and Anne was most surprised when she even received a compliment from her father. She was a little surprised when there was no sign of Frederick with the Admiral and Mrs Croft but relaxed when the latter whispered that he was on his way with Captain Harville. Anne couldn't help the smile that curved her lips as Mrs Croft confided that Frederick had been behaving most peculiarly all afternoon, grinning like a lunatic and whistling merrily and that h had been unusually concerned with his clothing for the evening. It delighted Anne no end that her response had been so well-received.

True to Mrs Croft's words, the two Captains were mere minutes behind her and Frederick was indeed grinning widely. Anne greeted Captain Harville first, with the feeling that he knew precisely what had happened that afternoon, and then it was Frederick's turn.

His “good evening, Miss Anne” was audible to the entire room as he bowed and kissed her hand but, as he straightened up, he whispered so that only Anne could hear him, “You look beautiful little one.” The blush that stained Anne's cheeks only intensified as, once the pleasantries were dealt with, Frederick refused to let go of her hand. Instead, he kept it in his own and used it to draw Anne closer as he turned to face her father, Anne's face lighting with a luminous smile at Frederick's words.

“Sir Walter, this afternoon Anne did me the great honour of accepting my proposal of marriage. I have come to ask for your blessing.”


	8. Epilogue

Silence covered the room at Frederick's words, everyone seemingly in shock. Sir Walter was gaping like fish while Lady Russell, Elizabeth and Mr Elliot seemed to be vying for the title of most displeased at the announcement. It was Mrs Croft who finally broke the silence with a cry of joy, moving forward to embrace both Frederick and Anne as she proclaimed how delighted she was by the news. She was followed by the Admiral, who clapped Frederick heartily on the back and shook Anne's hand vigorously and welcoming her to the family. The couples' actions seemed to break the spell over the room and Anne and Frederick were soon surrounded by the Musgroves, all of them expressing their delight for the newly engaged couple.

Anne was more than a little overwhelmed at being the centre of attention for what was almost certainly the first time and was hugely grateful that Frederick seemed to sense this, keeping her close by his side. Finding herself more than a little distracted by the fact that her close family had yet to say a word in response to Frederick's announcement, Anne happily remained silent and allowed Frederick to answer all of the questions that were directed towards them. Despite knowing her family as she did, Anne couldn't help but be hurt that her family failed to say anything until Lady Dalrymple and her daughter had offered their congratulations. Even then, only her father stepped forward, Elizabeth and Lady Russell staying ominously silent.

Well, Lady Russell stayed ominously silent. Elizabeth simply looked disinterested but that hardly surprised Anne. After all, she and Elizabeth had never been particularly close. Anne was also unsurprised that her father made no objection to the fact that Frederick hadn't asked his permission to marry Anne, just his blessing. Clearly twenty-five thousand pounds and a captaincy in His Majesty's Navy made all of the difference. Then again, she supposed that her father could hardly withhold his congratulations after Lady Dalrymple had bestowed hers.

As the rest of the room returned to their previous activities,Anne allowed herself to be swept off by Mrs Croft and Mrs Musgrove, both of whom were utterly effusive in their delight. In no time at all, Anne had been invited on one of Henrietta and Louisa's shopping expeditions so that she could start looking for her own trousseau. Feeling more than a little blindsided, Anne demurred as politely as she could stating that she had only become engaged that afternoon and surely she was allowed some time to simply enjoy being affianced? To Anne's relief, the two women did rein themselves in after her request and changed the subject obligingly. Even so, Anne found herself too distracted by the fact that Lady Russell still hadn't made any attempts to speak to her since the announcement. Thankfully, if either woman noticed, they were kind enough not to mention it.

They weren't the only ones.

Frederick also noticed but, where Mrs Croft and Mrs Musgrove remained silent, he did not and came forward to claim Anne for a turn around the hot-house, giving Anne some much needed solitude to gather her thoughts.

They walked in comfortable silence for some time before Frederick spoke. “Anne, may I ask you something?” At Anne's nod, he continued. “Tell me if, when I returned to England in the year eight, with a few thousand pounds, and was posted into the Laconia, if I had then written to you, would you have answered my letter? Would you, in short, have renewed the engagement then?”

“Would I!” Was all her answer; but the accent was decisive enough.

“Good God!” he cried, “you would! It is not that I did not think of it, or desire it, as what could alone crown all my other success. But I was proud, too proud to ask again. I was also far too resentful. I fear that I did not deal at all well with you breaking our engagement, my Anne and Harville, good friend that he is, bore the brunt of my moods. But still, it is in the past.”

Frederick pressed Anne's hand and smiled reassuringly at her. “We are reunited and, like other great men under reverses,” he added with another smile, “I must endeavour to subdue my mind to my fortune. I must learn to brook being happier than I deserve.”

After several stolen kisses, the couple returned to the main party with their ebullient moods slightly tarnished by the knowledge that they had lingered in sadness longer than necessary but determined not to dwell on it and instead focus on their future happiness. Their disappearance clearly hadn't gone unnoticed but nobody commented on it and neither did they comment on the fact that the newly-engaged couple spent the rest of the evening solely in the company of the Captain's family rather than Anne's.

**~*~**

Of course, despite her silence the previous evening, Lady Russell couldn't keep silent for long. Anne had barely finished her breakfast the morning following her engagement when Lady Russell swept into the room.

“Anne, I need to speak with you.”

In truth, Anne had been expecting this, no matter how much she may be dreading it. Finishing her cup of tea, she set her shoulders and rose from her seat. “Of course, Lady Russell. Shall we go into the parlour? It should be empty.”

The door had barely closed behind them before Lady Russell was letting her feelings be known.

“Anne dear, you can't really be serious about marrying that, that …. sailor, can you?”

“Of course I'm serious about marrying him. Why would I not be? Frederick asked me to marry him and I have accepted.”

“But Anne, think of how miserable the man made you the last time.”

“No, Lady Russell. It was not Frederick that made me miserable. It was breaking my engagement with Frederick that did that; something that I did upon your advice. I took your advice because I believed that you were acting in my best interests but you simply didn't think he was good enough for me.”

“Because he wasn't. He isn't. He's nothing more than a sailor.”

“He's far more than that. He's a well-respected Naval Captain who is more than capable of looking after me although it wouldn't matter if he weren't. Frederick loves me and I love him; I never stopped loving him. He makes me happy, Lady Russell and even if you don't approve of Frederick, I had hoped that you would accept him for that reason alone. Regardless, I shall be marrying Frederick whether you approve or not. Now, I'm very sorry but I shall have to leave; Mrs Croft is expecting me for tea. Good day, Lady Russell.”

Feeling strangely exultant, Anne left her godmother gaping as she exited the room to collect her pelisse and bonnet.

(~*~)

By the time that she arrived at Gay Street, Anne was still filled with elation and pride that she had managed to stand up for what she wanted for probably the first time ever. Her ebullience was matched by Mrs Croft, who practically sprang from her seat as Anne was shown into the parlour.

"Anne! I may call you Anne, may I? Now that we are to be sisters. And you must call me Sophy, of course. You have no idea how delighted the Admiral and I were to hear that you've accepted Frederick's proposal. You've long been a favourite of ours and we did hope that, if Frederick could find a wife here, it would be you."

Anne couldn't help but be grateful for Mrs Croft - Sophy's - words, so completely opposite to her own families reaction. She hadn't said anything to Frederick but, despite the apparent delight of the Crofts the previous evening, Anne had worried as to whether they would approve of her as Frederick's bride. As it turned out, her fears were totally unfounded.

"Sophy, do you think that you could maybe not be quite so enthusiastic?"

Frederick's request didn't go down so well with his sister.

"Not be so enthusiastic? Frederick, not only did we spend years thinking that you would never even consider marriage but, when you did, you then proceeded to set your sights on the most unsuitable girl. Forgive me for being highly delighted that not only have you managed to find a fiancée but one that is everything I ever wanted for you."

"Sophy, I'm not denying any of that and I, we, appreciate the sentiment but I fear that you're overwhelming Anne and considering that she only agreed to marry me yesterday, I would thank you if you didn't scare her off just yet."

Anne couldn't help but laugh at that. As if this would scare her off; indeed it had quite the opposite effect. The Crofts had always been nothing but kind to Anne and had welcomed her with open arms but this? This already felt as though she was part of the family. Unable to find the necessary words to articulate her thoughts, Anne had to settle for squeezing Frederick's hand where it lay next to hers on the chaise and smiling gratefully at Sophy.

After tea had been sent for and drunk, the Admiral suggested that the four of them take a stroll through the nearby Crescent Fields as the weather had improved enough for them to do so. Once there, Anne wasn't entirely surprised when the Admiral and Sophy fell back enough to give Anne and Frederick some privacy. While the older couple strolled up and down the park, occasionally pausing to talk to acquaintances, Frederick directed Anne to a nearby bench where, after a brief hesitation, Anne nestled in close to her fiance. There, she relayed her morning encounter with Lady Russell, earning herself as triumphant kiss from Frederick as a reward for standing her ground. They sat in silence for a while, simply enjoying each others company and occasionally stealing kisses when they were sure they would not be caught before Anne plucked up her courage and asked something that had been puzzling her for a while.

"Frederick? What made you change your mind about me? When you came to Kellynch at first, you seemed to hate me and yet here we are engaged. Something must have changed your mind."

"You are right of course, Anne. I did come to Kellynch determined to hate you. My resolve did not last long though and, I suppose, my feelings had already started to change when we were at Uppercross. I despised the way that everyone treated you and how you just seemed to accept it. I truly realised that I still loved you when you fell from the Cobb. I was lost. I've commanded ships in sea battles time and again but seeing you lying there, I didn't know what to do. All I could think was that I loved you yet I'd been so horrible and cruel to you. I stayed by the door of your room all through that first night until the surgeon announced that you would live. It was Harville who pointed out my behaviour towards you and Miss Musgrove , not to mention the presumed proposal between her and I, and advised that I go to Edward's rather than back to Kellynch to create some distance between us.

Though of course, I had a run in with Lady Russell before I could leave. She gave me quite the talking to, quite rightly blaming me for your fall. It was that evening that Margaret found the ship that I gave you in your trunk. I recognised it at once of course. How could I not? It gave me hope that you might not despise me, that you might yet still love me. Why else would you have kept it if you felt nothing for me? Why would you have brought it with you? That little carving gave me hope that not all was lost, that I still had a chance with you. And everything from there you know."

"I do." Feeling more than a little daring, Anne leant in and stole a quick kiss. "Thank you for telling me Frederick. I think I shall treasure your little ship all the more now, for it was that which brought us back together again."

~*~

Who can be in doubt of what followed? When any two young people take it into their heads to marry, they are pretty sure by perseverance to carry their point, be they ever so poor, or ever so imprudent, or ever so little likely to be necessary to each other's ultimate comfort.

Neither Anne nor Frederick wanted to wait long to be married. As far as they were concerned, they had already waited quite long enough. While Frederick was more than happy for Anne to have whatever she wanted in terms of the wedding itself, Anne had completely refused to even entertain the thought of a society wedding. She didn't need that; all she wanted was to marry Frederick in a simple ceremony and that was precisely what she got.

They were married a scant three months after Anne accepted Frederick's proposal for a second time in the parish church at Monkford. The service was performed by Frederick's brother and many of the congregation could be heard to say that they had never seen Miss Anne look so beautiful or so happy. The Crofts had offered Kellynch for the wedding breakfast and it was to Kellynch that the newlyweds returned to live after their wedding tour.

In the days, weeks and months following their engagement and wedding, Anne was tenderness itself, and she had the full worth of it in Captain Wentworth's affection. They were perfectly suited and their blissful happiness was visible to all. More than a few ladies had been heard to comment that they wished their husbands looked at them as Captain Wentworth looked at his wife. His profession was all that could ever make her friends wish that tenderness less; the dread of a future war all that could dim her sunshine. Yet, she gloried in being a sailor's wife and, despite his insistence that a woman would never set foot on a ship of his, when Captain Wentworth took to sea some six months after their marriage, it was with his wife at his side.


End file.
